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jazajas · 4 years

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okay so i finished love, victor a while ago and i saw some other reviews and thoughts about it here so now i've got a pretty good list on my thoughts and feelings.

tl;dr: it has some issues, yes, but im gonna hold out and hope it gets better later on because the same thing happened with the first few eps, i wasn't that into it but then it got good, and nothing is ever great with the first season, because at that point we're getting used to those characters.

⚠️caution: spoilers ahead (im on mobile, i cant get an under-the-cut)⚠️

1. while a leah on the offbeat movie would have been amazing movie sequel (even tho i havent read the book yet, im just here for the wlw content) i am kind of glad we got this instead. mostly because I've seen book series where one movie was good, so they decide to do the rest, turn out bad (hunger games? divergent? percy jackson? the hobbit?) because so much was cut from the book-to-first movie writing, that other scenes wouldn't make sense to future movies if they had those in while cutting others. however, i am sad that i didn't get to make the choice of deciding whether what was cut was wrong etc. about future movies, but i'll take what i can get.

2. LGBTQ+ POC as a lead! that's amazing! as a ace/bi lantina that's close to home (it also is great that victor's from texas and so is ya gorl) and even then it's a mixed latinx family! i think pilar mentioned that at least the grandmother left Colombia and i saw the Puerto Rican flag in victor's room. also the salazar's are definitely from small town texas, even without knowing the name. (church barbeques, the use of the words "such a diverse city" in regards to atlanta)

3. a lack of actual lgbtq+ main storylines (so far) is kind of sad for a show like this. i was getting serious bi/pan vibes (as a lot of other people) from victor from the beginning, and when it was implied that victor was actually gay (while great, not shaming) as it has been brought to my attention, there was a lot of looking at a lot of straight relationship problems (please let us know more about benji)- edit 6/18: upon further consideration, it very much is a show about questioning your sexuality, I'm speaking about the other straight relationship issues, not mia and Victor's, its just the first season.

4. let us talk about cheating for a sec. never okay, in any circumstance. i feel sorry for mia that she saw victor making out with benji and the fact that he was doing any of that in the first place. victor made a choice to lie about the espresso machine and then kissed benji at the hotel and then when benji was fighting with derek, basically confessed his love and mistakes, then proceeded to makeout with benji after he broke up with derek, he built that grave and now he must lie in it. i get having feelings for a guy when you are in a relationship with a girl, and not accepting yourself enough to end that relationship but you really want it to work so you can be "normal". really, he should have told mia after he got back from the trip tho. i get being in highschool and doing stupid stuff and making dumb decisions, but for a show aimed at teens i think we should also remind said teens to make good choices even if we have to lose some realism within the character choices.

4. pilar and her decisions based off her brother pissed me off. because i honestly think that if she'd kept her mouth shut about what she knew or confronted victor about it in the first place we could have avoided a LOT of mess. did she not learn from snooping around her mother's business about her relationships that going behind a person's back doesnt end well? i did, however, like the pilar/felix friendship and was really kind of hoping that they'd get together during their coffee hangout (although now im glad that didn't happen) because they had a deeper understanding of each other. same with wendy/felix, although they do seem to much alike to work out in the long run but i still feel bad for wendy.

5. i don't know how i feel about lake and andrew, as people separate from each other. both seem to be the way they are from their upbringing (not confirmed why andrew is such an ass, but if his comment about his dad is anything to go by i bet it's got something to do with attention) but andrew seems to be less, idk, superficial? like he turned down mia because he didn't want to be a rebound, he didn't out victor, he actually stood up to early teasing the other dudes in the lockerroom were doing at victor (with teasing of his own obviously but that interaction had him on my nice list until much later). lake? lake. i honestly don't have an opinion of her? not really. i mean after hanging out with pilar i was hoping felix wouldn't go back to lake. is her name laken? i feel like her full name is laken. but they also played the "im only like this because my mom is really superficial about stuff and i do like the geeky nice guy but appearances" to "actually screw the norms im gonna makeout with him infront of the whole student body". i honestly thought she was gonna be bi because she kept hitting on mia when she was helping set up for her "date" and "big night" and there was one point where i saw her face fall at something mia said in relation to her and idk i was hoping she'd be bi (i figured early on that victor/mia wasnt gonna work and was like "oh mia/lake would be cute" but now idk.

6. okay on to the "big night", i have one word. NO. i didn't like the peer pressure into having sex. i agreed with felix when he said "your body your choice" but im also disappointed that victor made out with mia and when lake was talking to felix after victor left he didn't try to stand up for victor.

7. on to age gaps because i hadn't really thought of this at first. we'll start with benji/derek: WHAT GRADE IS BENJI?! because that determines my thoughts. if he's a sophomore that meant that he and Derek started dating benji's freshman year and thats eugh, don't do that, don't care if its a gay couple that shouldn't be happening because the maturity of the two characters is DRASTICALLY different (this is also a reason i am not a fan of cmbyn) but that would explain why they were so rocky. hoping the event at the gay bar was open to anyone not just for drinking, but not liking that fact that not one of the adults with victor were like: hey, this is a 16 year old, that's kind of wack when that dude was hitting on victor. that made me question some stuff. although i figure it might be making up for the lack of a gay bar scene in love, simon. but even then, in svthsa it's a restaurant with a bar that some people go to just to drink at, it wasn't just a bar, simon could be there but should NOT have accepted drinks from college kids, not matter how attractive.

8. i loved how bram and simon and their friends helped victor out though. i like how bram was like: hey i know my friends are a lot so here's a gay basketball league becaue there's no one way to be gay. i like how Simon talked about needing help himself just to help victor and how he said his friends were cool with it because it's a community. i like of justin(?) mentioned how being what his parents wanted was putting on a mask and pretending, not him doing drag. my favorite lines from that ep are: "and before you ask my pronouns are they/them/theirs" "'they're all gay? even that guy? he's like [insert really tall number]' 'yeah. you should see him in heels'" "or in simon's case: really unathletic" "and also because bram said that if i wore [the jean jacket] one more time he'd burn it". also katya was there. and the group hug too!

9. the back hand homophobia in relation to family is sad, but realistic and i sincerely hope his parents are kind enough not to be too harsh on victor because of it. anything they say that isn't positive or supportive of victor is bad but i hope they realize that there is more to him than that and that they can come to terms with it because it's not always that hard to be a part of that community and super religious. i am biromantic and catholic. and while there are some things i wont agree on my mom with, i know that it's more of a strike against God for kicking out gay kids from families than it is to be gay, because those parents were given trust by GOD to love those kids no matter what, and be good parents. so in the end, the parents are wrong and harmful and in the case of christians against jesus's teachings to love everyone.

10. this is fan speculation but dont think simon/bram are going through a rough patch? i honestly think it'd be a little cruel to the characters to have on of their actors be producing but then not have that relationship stay. and while it's not set in stone and obviously things happen in the real world, we have no proof script wise about there being a rift. all we have are bad photoshopped ig photos and scenes where two characters are never standing next to each other probably beccaue schedules never link up correctly for minor characters. who knows, maybe nick robinson was filming for a movie where is does have an even more major role than victor's gay guru in a series about victor so his filming time was around that. im gonna keep hope that things are okay.

11. that being said: we need more mainstream wlw content, because someone said it earlier and it really does seem to be catering to straight girls. i'll admit i did freak out when benji played call me maybe which is something i associated with him and victor but then kissed a guy because who wouldn't? we get that serenade and sweetness and then it'a ripped from us. but i did mellow out. if i flipped later it was because victor was making dumb decisions and i had to give myself a moment of compsure before i continued.

in the end, i'd say that there is a lot of growth this series needs to go through, but i also know that some people just aren't going to like it and i get that. but i also know that sometimes the best of stories have rocky starts, nothing is ever perfect from the beginning. and besides, further seasons are on hold until we figure out this covid thing, which means that you bet they're gonna be looking at our feedback. they saw what we thought before, they can do it again

i really did like it but we need more ACTUAL lgbtq+ relationship stuff from this series and better decisions on what we are teaching the younger generations, as well as what we want to focus on and realism within characters. i'm giving it an 8/10, because there is always room for growth and i really hope we get better things out of this than what we have been given in season 2.

edit: someone mentioned it really seeming like it was meant for Disney+ and i felt that. also to anyone who reaches the tags agter reading ALL OF THIS: i am sorry

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artificialqueens · 7 years

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sun in an empty room (trixya) - dare

LA is a dreamy kind of summer hot, and Katya is in love.

(AN: so funny story, I was stuck on a bus for four hours without wifi today which meant I couldn’t finish editing chapter five of honest world, which is fully written and – I promise – will be up on wednesday instead. while stuck on this bus i had the picture of trixie that katya posted today open on my phone and i kept LOOKING at it and… well. this happened. sorry. herein lies almost 4k of pure disgusting fluff set during trixie and katya’s (speculative) pre-all stars romp across LA this week. consider this an early apology for all the angst chapter five is gonna unload on you!)

LA is a dreamy kind of summer hot, and Katya is in love.

“I’m not scared, I don’t think,” Trixie is saying. “Nervous, but not scared. Do you know what I mean?”

Trixie’s eyes are honey brown, glinting with the sun as he walks backwards down the pavement, tourists in a rush veering out of his way like he’s some kind of historical monument, or a statue in a museum – look but don’t touch. Trixie smiles at Katya, oblivious, and Katya feels that same mantra pound in his head like a hangover – look but don’t touch.

It’s a daily mantra for him. Mostly. Sometimes yes, sometimes not. Sometimes it takes a little break, when the tides are right (wrong) and Venus is in Leo (Virgo) and the ghosts that tap at Katya’s walls are – well, still tapping, but in encouragement. You-go-girl tapping.

It’s a metaphor. Keep up, Diane.

“Like, shit. If I go home first and I lose all my credibility and my career ends in shambles, I can go live in a cave in Montana for a couple years. That’s a vacation, bitch.”

“Girl,” Katya says, heart so full it could punch out of his chest any moment, “not Montana, girl.”

Trixie stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk; the crowd parts around him like a rock in the crashing sea. His mouth twitches. “I dunno. It’s sunny out there too, right? I could work on my Mon-TAN-a.”

Katya stares at him, then hacks a mock hairball, mouth working and nose scrunched. “That is awful,” he declares as he draws even, grabbing Trixie’s arm and turning him the right way around. “You might as well stay home. Jesus.”

Trixie’s shoulder bumps his. “You don’t mean that.”

Of course he doesn’t. “Of course I do.” He looks over and up, and Trixie is looking back at him, smirking with disbelief. “Do I lie? Have you ever known me to lie? This is an insult and a scandal and I hope you’re ready to duel over it – to the death if need be – “

“You lie down a lot,” says Trixie. “I keep telling you to get orthopedics, but do you listen to me? No –“

“Fuck the whole entire fuck off,” Katya says, laughing. Trixie’s skin slips sweaty under his palm, so he has to squeeze tighter to keep hold. “I’ll lie you down, you bitch –“

Trixie breaks at that, throwing his head back and laughing, the line of his neck lit golden in the sun. God, that fucking tan. The sun does such good things to Trixie’s skin, the set of his shoulders, the shift of muscle under thin fabric. “What does that even mean,” he says, voice all cracked and high. When he gets his breath back, he looks right at Katya, face open and happy, and Katya – it’s in moments like this, this right here, that Katya can believe it’s not just him that feels it.

Katya wipes sweat away from his forehead with his free hand and grins. “It means whatever you want it to,” he says, over-the-top sexual, and that sets Trixie off again, brings back that golden line down his throat.

They’re not out with any purpose today. Trixie’s first night back in LA he’d shown up at Katya’s door; you almost won this shit, he’d said, and I’m younger, more beautiful, and less fucked up in the lungs and head than you are. I’ve got this. Right? And that last question, he’d meant it; and so Katya had brought him in, past his roommate on the couch, into his bedroom, and he’d gotten Trixie a beer and cuddled into his shoulder against the headboard and told him how fucking great he was. The next day they’d gone shopping. Today, though – a show in Lobster Bumfuck, Canada and a few other gigs later – they were out without purpose. I’m not gonna see the sun for a month, Trixie said, curled like a question mark in Katya’s bed. Let’s go outside. Let’s do something.

It isn’t a date. Katya is firmly reminding himself that it isn’t a date.

“This isn’t a date,” he says out loud, then freezes.

Trixie stops beside him, and twists fully – not dislodging Katya’s hand on his arm, though – to look him in the face. They stare at each other for a moment. It’s high noon; the sun, directly overhead, catches on the side of Trixie’s face under his hat, the corner of his eye, the corner of his mouth.

“What is it, then?” Trixie says.

They��ve reached a break in the crowd – moved one block past the shit tourists care about, or something. There’s no one else to hear the quiet vulnerability in Trixie’s voice, to see the way his fingers twitch at his side and his mouth thins, like there’s more he’s holding in.

Katya searches his face, but – god, sometimes it fucking hurts to look at him. Katya feels a lot of things all the time, but none of that, in his thirty-some years of existence, could have prepared him for how much he feels when he looks at Trixie sometimes. He looks down now instead, which is how he sees those twitching fingers; index and middle finger tapping against the curled-in thumb, tucked half out of sight behind the baggy leg of Trixie’s grey coveralls.

Look but don’t touch. It’s a mantra with a whole list of appendices. Katya’s not a liar or a rule-breaker; he’s just a very creative equivocatrice.

He reaches out and curls his hand around Trixie’s wrist. Present but not shackling. Trixie’s fingers still, and then Katya watches in fascination as they curl and uncurl, just minutely, beckoning without words.

Katya adjusts his hold accordingly, sliding down to thread his fingers with Trixie’s, palm to palm, thumbs crossing.

“Who knows what you’re getting out of this,” he says. “I’m just here to watch you soak up the sun.”

Trixie’s mouth twitches and – incredibly – his cheeks pinken, just a little.

“I can’t believe you go outside in overalls,” Katya says as they cross the park. “I’m – listen, there is not a lot on earth that I can judge anyone about.”

“I’ll say.”

“Shut up, you are just proving my point. I can’t judge anyone for shit but – girl. Overalls? What would possess you?”

“Listen,” Trixie says, half a sigh, face weary but mouth twitching – “I… got pantsed a lot as a kid.”

Katya bursts out laughing.

“It’s physics, bitch!” Trixie crows, his face dappled by the shadows of the trees overhead. “You can’t argue with science, Katya!”

“Imperialistic western hocus pocus – watch me, Tracy,” Katya says, then starts laughing again.

“What? No, okay, it’s – the fucking straps, they hold it up – shut up you dumb-ass. Oh my god.”

Katya is fully stopped by this point and more or less on the ground, laughing up at Trixie’s exasperated face.

Trixie rolls his eyes. “Listen, no one in this park is a scientist –“

“You don’t know that,” says Katya, looking around.

“No one in these five square feet is a scientist. Mary mother of fuck. I’ll prove it, okay?”

“How?” says Katya. He leers and rasps, “Are you looking for a pantsing, Mother? I have nimble fingers, you know.”

“Eat me,” Trixie says, flipping him the bird. He looks around thoughtfully, then pauses and eyes the tree beside them, assessing. “Okay. So if you tried to climb this tree in those skinny jeans, what would happen?”

“Well, first I’d get an erection.”

Trixie rolls his eyes again but nods. “That seems likely, okay.”

“And then my jeans would get caught on the bark and slip down, baring my whole ass to the world at large and rendering everyone in this park snow-blind.”

“Also likely. Fine. Okay.” Trixie drops his backpack to the ground and steps up to the tree, looking up the length of the trunk, tracking his path like a mountaineer at the foot of Everest, not an idiot about to disturb some public property. He rubs his hands together and cracks his knuckles. “Watch and learn, motherfucker.”

He gets his first handholds, then looks back to make sure Katya is watching. Katya pretends to spit into his palms, left then right, and grins back up at him like a shithead.

“Okay, Brokeback,” Trixie says, dry. “Real climbers use chalk and real cowboys use lube.” Then, as Katya falls backwards laughing, he hoists himself up, getting about a foot off the ground before his feet find purchase on the rough bark.

And that – Katya sits up again at that, because. Damn. The muscle tank under Trixie’s ugly-ass overalls is doing great things to the muscles of his arms, his lats spread like wings peeking past the fabric, shifting as he pulls himself up another foot.

Katya might be getting a boner over this americana boyhood fantasy. He’d like to say that’s a new level of weird for him, but it’s not, of course.

Soon Trixie is more than half his own height off the ground. He’s eyeing the branch near him, which is an offshoot thick enough to be a trunk itself, and Katya has taken up heckling.

“Climber’s got a rubber wrist,” he calls, and Trixie calls back, “Better than a rubber dick, you godforsaken drain on society.”

Katya cackles. “Sometimes when I’m fucking a guy I pretend I’m a dyke with a strap-on,” he says, and Trixie laughs so hard he almost falls.

Then Trixie’s eyeing that branch again, and apparently he decides to go for it, because he shifts for a moment, and then clenches his thighs around the trunk, and Katya’s so fucking distracted by the shift of muscle under the denim that he almost misses Trixie taking one hand all the way off the trunk and stretching up and back to grab hold of the branch.

Trixie pauses for a moment, adjusting, then calls back, “I hope you appreciate that I nearly just died for your education.”

Katya jolts out of his dumb haze of arousal. “Give me stupidity or give me death, zogwarg queen.”

Trixie tests his weight a few more times, then swings his other hand up as well, so he’s stretched half between the branch and the trunk, back arched. He shifts, unwraps a leg, swears, wraps it again. Pauses. Moves again, more carefully now, shifting one foot to brace against the wood, knee bent into his chest, before bringing the other leg around to curl his knee over the branch.

He gets the first leg up as well then shouts, “Ha! Eat that, you wooden piece of shit!”

Katya pauses in his enthusiastic clapping to call out reproachfully, “Trees are the lungs of the earth, Trixie. You should show them a little more respect.”

“I was talking about you, you wooden piece of shit,” Trixie calls back, and Katya folds over his crossed legs laughing. He can hear Trixie laughing too; then Trixie adds, “As if you’ve ever respected a pair of lungs a day in your sad life, you cancerous motherfucker.”

“Stop, stop,” Katya wheezes. “I’m old, leave me alone.”

“Elderly cancerous wooden garbage-eating bitch,” Trixie says, voice scathing. “Look at me, cunt. Look at what my overalls can do.”

Katya drags himself upright with difficulty, then starts laughing all over again. Trixie is hanging from the branch like a sloth, arms extended and legs hooked, hat teetering on the brink of abandoning ship. He shifts – bracing his leg against the trunk again – then glances at Katya, and huffs a breath of quiet laughter, looking back up at the branch with his eyes all squinty and smiling.

The late afternoon sun is a warm touch on his face, his arms, the spread of bare skin where the tank gapes open across his ribs and shoulder. Katya’s not even thinking about it when he raises his phone, flicks over to the camera, and aims with an artist’s eye.

He lowers his phone a moment later to inspect the picture in the shadow of his own body. When he looks up, Trixie is swinging his legs down, hanging by his arms, and then letting go, falling the four feet or so to the ground easily. He brushes his hands on knees, then looks up, grinning, and Katya carefully schools his face.

Trixie, he thinks sometimes, knows a little too well what it is he does to Katya.

The problem is – Katya likes that.

Trixie is still grinning, waiting, and Katya is still cross-legged on the ground, his MassArt t-shirt doing a shit job of covering his semi.

Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pounding – Katya plants his hands behind him and leans back, grinning back with the power of a thousand watts.

“Gross,” Trixie says, but not like he means it. He’s not subtle about the way he looks. Then he grimaces, eyeing his palms. “Ugh. Sap.”

“I thought you were from the country,” says Katya, dragging himself up.

“You don’t get to call me on shit-all right now,” Trixie says. “I just climbed a fucking tree. And what have we learned today, Katya?”

“Well,” Katya says, deadly serious. “If you can do that, you can definitely win All Stars.”

Trixie screams a laugh, and smacks at his arm, only instead of pulling back he gets ahold of him and doesn’t let go, sliding his palm down the full length of Katya’s arm to his hand, drawing goosebumps in his wake all the way.

They go to Trixie’s favourite bar for dinner and drinks, and Trixie sips his beer with a contented smile, nodding along to Linda Ronstadt over the speakers. Linda Ronstadt is someone Katya had heard growing up any time his mom had control of the radio, but not someone he could have named until he met Trixie. He doesn’t love music that involves people singing – it grates on him in a weird way – but this is pretty good. Trixie likes it.

Trixie hums along under his breath, and his thigh is warm against Katya’s in the booth. Katya eats his fries and suffers in silence.

Eventually it’s too much, eventually it’s always too much. He excuses himself for a smoke and steps out into the dim alleyway, across from the BLADES sign he loves so much. Flaming Saddles isn’t his usual joint – if he’s not performing, bars aren’t, really, so he’s only ever in one if his friends are – but he’s come with Trixie a few times, and he was there for Trixie’s album release party, of course. Speaking of too much. He can still remember the thrum of guitars through the walls as he sucked desperately on a cigarette, trying to forget the way that Trixie kept seeking him out in the crowd from the stage.

That was… three months ago. And here he is again. Jesus shitting Christ.

He lights up and stares out into the street, watching a streetlight flicker. It’s pushing nine and getting dark; summer is reaching slowly towards its end, and he’s going to spend the last month of it alone. He inhales deeply and blows grey smoke into the purpling night. It’s not worth thinking about. He should be happy for Trixie. He is happy. He’s just also –

“Hey,” Trixie says from behind him.

Katya turns to see Trixie shutting the door carefully behind him, mindful of the wedge under the doorjamb to let them back in. He’s lost his hat somewhere. He turns around and looks at Katya, glancing briefly at the cigarette in his fingers and then back to his face.

Whatever. Katya’s down to just a few a day. Suck that, cancer. Suck on the entire blackened surface of his lungs and the sweet taste of minimal progress.

“You okay?“ says Trixie. “You left kind of abruptly.”

Katya does a double-take. “What? Yes. No I didn’t.”

“I was halfway through a sentence, Katya.”

“See how it feels, huh,” Katya says. He takes a deep drag on his cigarette, blows it out towards the street. When he looks back, Trixie’s stepped closer, into the dim glare of the streetlight outside the alleyway. He’s faintly pink in the cheeks from their day, and his gaze darts across Katya’s face, brows drawn together with quiet concern.

“I’m serious. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Katya says. He drops the cigarette and crosses his arms over his chest, feeling a chill that isn’t there. “Just, you know. Tired.”

Trixie’s mouth purses and he presses a hand to Katya’s arm, fingers ghosting along his tricep. “Yeah? We can go, if you want.”

“No!” says Katya, too fast and he knows it. Trixie catches it too, if the slight narrowing of his eyes is any indication. “No, I mean. It’s fine. Let’s stay out a while longer.”

Trixie shifts on his heels but nods. He looks unsure. Katya hates that, and loves that he’s one of the few that gets to see it, and hates that he loves it. Trixie is so sure all the time. He’s about to turn twenty-eight and he’s so sure.

Katya luxuriates in uncertainty. He’s made an art out of it, out of ambiguity. That doesn’t mean it’s better; it certainly doesn’t make this any easier.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he says, finally, instead of lighting the second cigarette he badly wants. He only wants it to stall on saying anything, and his therapist – well, his witch sort-of-friend, it’s a long story – says he hides behind his self-destructive tendencies to avoid saying anything of value and risk. In his emotional life, at least.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” says Trixie, like it’s easy. “So much, Katya. Holy shit. I’m gonna lie awake at night. I can’t sleep if I haven’t subjected you to at least one bad pun over the day, you know?”

“Meanwhile my sleep schedule has suffered,” Katya jokes, but it’s half-hearted. He’s looking at Trixie, at the pink in his cheeks, all sun-kissed. He’ll be golden-brown for All Stars, maybe a little adorably burnt on the first days. The camera loves Trixie.

Katya pushes down a weird feeling of jealousy. It’s a camera. He needs to acquire some fucking chill, here.

Trixie smiles at him, soft, then looks away into the street. The light finds all the little faults and cracks of his face: the laughter lines around his mouth, the arch of his cheekbones, the faint shadows under his eyes. He looks better rested than he has in ages. Katya can’t help but remember the two nights they’ve had together this past week, Trixie in his bed, warm and pliant, his thigh pressed to Katya’s in sleep, his hand against Katya’s stomach with his arm over Katya’s waist in the early hours of the morning. And then, turning over, the small, private smile Katya would find waiting for him, and the soft huff of sleepy breath.

Trixie looks back at him abruptly, and something flickers across his face – he sees something, looking at Katya, Katya sees him register it, whatever it is. Who knows what Katya’s face is doing. Who the fuck knows what it’s ever doing when he’s looking at Trixie – he finds out weeks, months later, when it turns up online. But now, with the way Trixie’s brows draw together, and the way his mouth opens on a soft exhale… Katya can guess.

“Katya,” Trixie says, “Katya –“

Then he’s stepping forwards, and his hands are bracketing Katya’s face, warm palms on either side of his jaw and his fingers tickling the short hair near his ears. Trixie looks at Katya for a long moment, that same, aching look on his face, and then he leans in, and he kisses him.

Trixie’s lips are so soft, and sweet like the honeyed chapstick he uses as a boy. He kisses Katya; pauses, exhales, hot breath against Katya’s lips; then kisses him again. He licks, just a little, at the seam of Katya’s mouth.

Katya’s own hands find the bare skin at Trixie’s ribs, and he sighs into the kiss, opening up to it, asking Trixie in – not like a guest. Like someone coming home.

He’s the one to break it, when it’s time to break it, drawing away with a shaking breath. When he looks up, Trixie’s eyes are still closed. They open slowly, that honey-brown gone dark in the low light, and Katya rubs his thumb against the naked warmth of Trixie’s skin and tries to fix this moment, this day, all of it, in his memory.

“I feel like you’re shipping out to war,” he says, his voice barely a whisper, “and I’m your virginal sweetheart left to pine away in our small coastal town, until I get a real job at a factory and realize that men are unnecessary, both to capitalism and my life in general.”

Trixie’s mouth twitches. “Are you undercutting my big moment?”

“Moments are fleeting,” Katya says, an echoing grin pulling at his lips. “Forever is forever.”

“Moments are especially fleeting if I’m in the navy,” says Trixie. Then, “Get it? Fleet-ing?”

Katya smacks at the inside of his arm. “Now who’s undercutting the moment,” he says. And then he blurts, “Come home with me. I know you’ll have to be up so early to get all your stuff from your place but, Trixie, I –“

“Of course,” Trixie says. “What did you think, dumbass, I was going to kiss you and then run off into the night? You know who you’re dealing with here, right?”

Katya looks at him and smiles, drumming his fingers against Trixie’s ribs. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” he says.

And later, they’ll curl up in his bed; later, he’ll put his hands all over that sun-warm skin. They won’t fuck, he’s pretty sure. Trixie’s not that kind of girl, and he’s okay with that. But they’ll lie down together, and Katya will draw weird patterns on Trixie’s chest and tell him they’re runes for success if he asks; and Trixie will fall asleep first, like he always does, and Katya will watch his eyelashes flutter shut like the skyline going dark and he’ll pin that to his memory too, to carry him through the next month.

LA is hot at night, full of dreams, and Katya – Katya’s in love. It both is and isn’t the end of the world. Katya looks at Trixie’s face in the lamplight; Trixie looks back, open and happy, and Katya knows – Katya knows.

#trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #fluff #dare #rpdr fanfiction #submission #canon compliant

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