Work Text:
KTK 🧁
Today
hey beautiful wyd (11:10 am)
this is me rn
[Selfie of Vi with her hair wet and slicked back as she smiles at the camera, visibly in a tub, naked, but with a wooden tray covering her chest and bubbles doing the rest of cover up. There’s a bottle of water and a copy of “This is how you lose the time war” on the tray.]
Hi. I’m doing some reading in a less interesting setting. (11:12 am)
[Selfie of Caitlyn wearing glasses and doing a ‘v’ with her hands. She’s in a sweater that looks very cozy and her hair is high up in a ponytail and Vi can’t look anywhere but beyond the glasses and the wisps of hair framing her face that make her look amazing.]
whoa (11:13 am)
like wow
u wear glasses??
It’s for computer use, anti-bluescreen jins. (11:15 am)
never seen u wearing them in our sat morning studies
Why would I waste dozens of minutes looking at a screen when you’re within reach? (11:16 am)
hao charmer
how long u been there
Close to three hours, give or take. (11:17 am)
wuuut
cant blame me tho
went camping w this gorgeous girl
now im in a tub (11:18 am)
what is my life rn
anywya (11:19 am)
when r u done
Half an hour, forty minutes max. (11:20 am)
I could order us something for lunch in the mean time.
Or we could also go out if you want to.
nah i was thinking on cooking smth
dunno when ill have another chance
like the house empty and all
fancy anything specific? (11:21 am)
You.
charmer
but i mean lunch
The chef in charge of the menu?
gods cupcake
ur making me wanna go upstairs to u (11:21 am)
instead of downstairs to kitchen
I’ll behave for now then. Omakase. (11:22 am)
Vi grinned at the phone, remembering the first time Caitlyn had used such word, which had led her to add an entry to her notes app, a habit that was forming whenever Caitlyn spoke Ionian here and there.
hao
call u when its ready
Vi pulled up her notes app not to check what she already knew but to take notes of a sound that just flooded her mind —- something that sounded like eye and knee that she might’ve dreamed of in the time between their morning sex sessions and her waking up alone in Caitlyn’s bed about twenty minutes ago to a written message on her side:
'Ran you a bath. Hope the water is to your liking as well as the book I left in the tray. I’m upstairs — office across my parents’ bedroom.
–
C♥️'
Vi padded down the last stair about ten minutes later in an oversized tee, shorts, a pair of Cait’s fuzzy socks and slippers, hair tied up with a towel as she’d just left the cozy warmth of the tub to take care of more pressing, stomach rumbling matters. She yawned into the back of her hand, her body loose in a way she wasn’t used to and that felt… good, and dangerous. The kind of good that made you want more, like to stay and think about the future and strategize and plan.
She smiled lightly at herself while her feet took her to the grand, stainless-steel, double-door Kiramman fridge like it held the secret of the universe — well, it kinda did if it were prime ingredients to put together and make food.
Gods, they had a lot of good and fresh produce, cleaned, labeled and ready to go. She could make a few things with the bluefin tuna, like sashimis or sear it on a sesame crust. Maybe it could go with some Matsutake rice… or maybe she could make a broth out of it, or a salad to pair with the Yubari king melons and some white truffle?
“Sandwiches, maybe? Nah, too simple,” Vi thought out loud while checking the leftovers from their charcuterie board. “Nice for a snack, not lunch,” she mumbled, then saw some potatoes. “Yeah, course they have the Russet ones… a gnocchi would be killer but it’s too much hands-on time…” her stomach rumbled as if in response.
“Okay, pasta it is but which kind…” she murmured, rubbing the back of her neck as she eyed the myriad of ingredients there, literally up for grabbing. “They probably have top notch store bought even hand-made noodles here somewhere,” Vi noted as her brain tried to come up with something simple, homey, but with enough process to keep her hands busy as Caitlyn had let her know she was in her parent’s study room, probably working on her assignments or projects as the dutiful student she was.
“Oh, what if I make some crepes,” Vi’s mind kept going on that thread as her hand reached for the ground beef, milk and eggs. She could start the sauces first — a béchamel with a twist, a base of tomato and wine for the meat — and make the crepes to use as layers as Vander taught her. “Yeah, fresh and fluffy, soaking up the sauces… Cait won’t know what hit her.”
Vi rolled up her sleeves and started separating the ingredients and organizing her station. She had onion, garlic, leaves and herbs, ground beef, sausage, milk, butter, and eggs. There were beautiful tomatoes to crush in the fridge but she was sure there were canned tomatoes and paste in the same place she’d find the flour.
In less than 10 minutes, Vi had a two dutch ovens on —- garlicky handfuls of spinach cooking in a grated onion roux that soon would have milk added to it, and sausage and beef being browned over medium heat, the remainder greens and chopped garlic and onion standing by to join the party before canned tomatoes — while her focus was, then, directed at her batter taking a thin crepe form on a nonstick skillet.
She queued a podcast she saw as a suggestion by her ‘Human Biology’ professor — something about biomechanical ethics she didn’t really understand but liked the sound of — and got to work. It was all very simple in her head: homemade lasagna with crepes instead of lasagna sheets so Caitlyn could taste the eggs and the nutmeg Vi had already learned she liked.
So the milk sizzled as it hit the pan, and garlic and onion filled the kitchen with a warm, familiar scent, while Vi stirred mindlessly, muscle memory taking over as she piled the cooled crepes before adding a freshly hot one onto the cooling rack. Salt, pepper, herbs, and a splash of red wine from a bottle she definitely hadn’t asked permission to use but that reduced down beautifully.
As the last of eight crepes was done, the sauce simmered, and Vi moved onto the kitchen to leave things as organized as she’d found them, thoughts of that morning came drifting into her mind. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, lips twitching at the memory of Caitlyn’s mouth trailing lower, lower still, until Vi had forgotten her own name.
That first kiss in the bathroom — firm, possessive, purposeful. The way Caitlyn had commanded her not to speak and Vi had nearly come apart on the spot.
Then she was moving, pouring a ladle of her spinach & spiced béchamel at the bottom of a baking dish, then a crepe was smoothed on it, her fingers slowing slightly as her mind conjured the counter’s cold marble against her thighs and Caitlyn’s tongue circling her breast like it was a secret only she was allowed to know.
Her heartbeat stuttered when she caught a stray note of lavender in the air and the scent dragged her straight back to the press of their bodies, to Caitlyn’s breath hot against her neck, her command of Vi’s rhythm and release.
Vi added meat and some more of the tomato sauce while memories of Caitlyn’s fisted hand, the one she’d been made to grind against until her legs gave out, blinded her for a second. The feeling of how that pressure had built until it was unbearable and of how Caitlyn had waited — watched — before slipping her fingers in like she knew exactly how Vi would fall apart still so fresh it made her hot all over again.
Then Vi flipped another crepe onto the stack and exhaled slowly, her thighs still ached if she really paid attention. Her core felt loose and molten — like someone had scooped her out and left only the memory of fire as she layered bechamel, another crepe, then meat sauce next and caught herself smiling at how smug Caitlyn had looked after, brushing Vi’s hair back and whispering, ‘ now you can talk’ like she hadn’t just reset Vi’s nervous system.
It was stupid, how good it had been. How good it felt to be undone so thoroughly and then kissed like she was made of treasure and not trauma. She’d had sex before and she’d liked it before… but that like this? This was something else.
Not performance or teen horniness or just lustful hunger.
That was Caitlyn Kiramman looking at her like she was the means and the end, like she was someone to be taken time with, to be studied, and learned, and worshipped.
Vi grated cheese over the top layer, her chest warming again as her mind spun one last image from that bathroom, the one of Caitlyn between her legs, glinting blues looking sharp, tongue dragging slow over flushed skin, her voice low and teasing when she praised her for ‘ being so collaborative.’
Vi let out a shaky little breath and turned to put the dish in the oven before she got too lost in it because once the timer started counting down, she’d be climbing stairs and Caitlyn would be waiting, working on her projects, and Vi didn’t want to think about which one was scarier: the idea of messing this up, somehow, or how badly she wanted to never leave.
The lasagna sat warm on their plates, the smell of garlic, tomato and cheese still clinging to the air. Caitlyn had taken the first bite in silence, then the second. By the third, she’d made a sound Vi wanted to compress into an audio file and play over and over again.
“Gods,” Caitlyn said, her voice muffled by the fork still half in her mouth. “This is— what even is this?”
Vi grinned as she wiped her hands on her napkin. “It’s Vander’s trick, crepes instead of pasta sheets and letting it sit ten minutes before cutting so it soaks up all the juice.”
“Well, it’s cheating,” Caitlyn muttered, taking another bite. “I feel like I hate everything I’ve ever eaten before this.”
“Gods, you’re so dramatic,” Vi said, laughing. “I’ll take the compliments, though.”
They sat at the smaller dining table near the front of the kitchen — a place meant to look casual despite the pressed linen napkins, the soft glow of pendant lights, and a perfectly staged centerpiece of dried citrus slices and pinecones that made Vi itch to rearrange it.
They ate quietly for a few more minutes if not for the warm hum between them, the kind that made Vi think about maybe . Maybe they could have this, dinners, and routine, and touches, and dumb arguments about cutlery direction, and waking up to each other, and eventually winding down after a long day to fall asleep in each other’s arms, sex or no sex.
She glanced over at Caitlyn and caught as her fork slowed and her eyes went elsewhere, maybe to the same place it was in the quiet moments that morning, and when Vi found her to let her know lunch wasn’t going to take long.
Vi noticed it immediately now, when her mind was elsewhere. The way her mouth tightened just slightly, how her gaze didn’t flick to her plate anymore, just stayed fixed ahead like she was assembling thoughts mid-chew.
Vi set her own fork down too. “Is everything okay?”
Caitlyn blinked again, like she’d only just heard her. “Yeah, yes, I’m just…” she reached for her napkin and dabbed at her mouth with too much care, folding it once, then again as if buying time. “There’s something I should tell you.”
Vi raised an eyebrow, quiet. “Okay.”
“I didn’t just pick the study for the comfort,” Caitlyn said, managing a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I was… following up on something.”
Vi tilted her head slightly, not alarmed — not yet — but waiting, alert, bracing herself for the worst despite not even being able to think which worst it might be or why.
“I was thinking about what you said, about Powder and the explosion,” Caitlyn went on, her eyes looking down at her hands. “Something was bothering me… the timing, the details… so I went looking.”
Vi’s hands curled slightly on the edge of the table. “You went looking!?”
“My mother… she has clearance to a lot of things due to her position so it wasn’t that hard to find the online files,” Caitlyn nodded, her eyes back up to look at Vi’s, bot hof them sharing equal levels of concern. “The final report says the apartment was destroyed due to a gas leak despite the inconsistencies considering the firefighters report and the CSI photos.”
The tension in Vi’s shoulders had gone stiff and still. Her hands were still on the edge of the table, her fingers curled ever so slightly against the wood.
“The timing, the radius of the blast, the materials found at the scene…” Caitlyn’s voice was steady as she frowned a little in that way Vi already knew she was trying to rationalize through something. “It shouldn’t lead to that conclusion, not unless someone wanted it to.”
“Oh,” Vi said quietly, not as a question but as a knowing. She’d never thought or looked into any of that, just took what Vander had told her at face value and thanked every god that Powder wasn’t found.
“When Grayson stepped down, all those years ago, I always felt it was so sudden, so out of nowhere, like… she was my role-model. The Sheriff of Piltover, our hero who dismantled so much crime, had just resigned out of the blue,” Caitlyn’s voice dropped slightly, her fingers fiddling with each other. “Her name’s all over the reports, missing references to a plastic toy with graffited monkey on it and clear explosion marks, torn and molten borders and all… I know you all for less than a semester and I can see it’s Powder's, clear as cristal, so I believe Grayson could too.”
“She’s known us for ages… since before our parents died,” Vi’s heart felt like it had climbed up into her throat, especially with the way Caitlyn was looking at her, like she didn’t know if she was helping or hurting. “You think she covered it up?” Vi murmured.
“To protect Powder and all of you, yes, but that’s not all,” Caitlyn confirmed, her voice softer s one of her hands reached across the table, tentative but steady, curling her fingers around one of Vi’s. Vi didn’t pull away, but her hand didn’t move either — not yet. “I knew mother and Eleanor had met at the military at 18… what I didn’t know was that Vander was also there, in the same unit, same year.”
“They all knew each other?!” Vi blinked, her eyebrows trying to merge with her hairline.
“There’s more, still,” Caitlyn nodded, her voice dipping. “The Kiramman Foundation granted Vander a great sum of money in a few days after your arrest, which makes sense given their military background and mother’s and Eleanor’s close relationship…” then Caitlyn hesitated, paused to take in some air, her thumb caressing the back of Vi’s hand. “And now, just recently, a new grant was awarded, under Eleanor’s name, to fund a full ride at the Community University of Piltover.”
Vi stared at her.
Her breath left her in a sharp exhale, like she'd just been gut-punched. Her chair creaked as she leaned back slowly, as though her body needed space to absorb the hit. Her gaze didn’t move — fixed on Caitlyn, and yet not really seeing her anymore. Just shapes, outlines, as the weight of the words seemd to fill the space between and around them like smoke, and Vi couldn’t tell whether she was supposed to be breathing it in or choking on it.
A grant. A full ride. Arranged by Grayson.
She blinked once, twice, but her vision didn’t clear. What even was she supposed to do with that?
She retreated her arms, crossing them tightly over her chest as a reflex. Her mind felt like it as spinning as she found herself peeling back the layers of every conversation she’d had with Vander, every blank spot in Powder’s understanding, every silent look between grown-ups who probably thought they were doing their best by keeping her in the dark.
Vi dropped her eyes to the edge of the table, tracing the grain with her vision, jaw clenched. It was supposed to be a win. She’d earned it, she’d done the work, she’d fought for that, for the right to be more than her record.
She’d passed the exams, hadn’t she? Hadn’t she? She had to have passed the exames to be admitted, right? It’s not like anyone with money, power, or both, could just grant it for her, could it? It’s not like there had been some sort of fight happening behind her back, like the outcome had been negotiated before she ever picked up the gloves, is it?
And did any of that mean she owed something? That this chance at community college, that this future she’d just barely started believing in, was something someone else had paid for? Something Caitlyn’s family was gifting her?
What if it wasn’t a gift, but a favor? Or a correction? Or mercy?
She didn’t like what that made her feel.
Her throat was tight, dry. Her tongue felt like it didn’t know what shape the words should take — grateful or furious, moved or humiliated. And the something warm she had in her chest and gut felt different, it felt cold.
It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Caitlyn, of course she did. It was actually what made it all worse because it made sense. Suddenly it all made more sense than the fairytale story she’d been telling herself about merits and achievements.
It was that, deep down, some part of her had always wondered if Vander had pulled strings — if someone with more power than them had nudged things along. She just hadn’t expected the truth to come wrapped in Caitlyn’s voice, in her soft hands and steady eyes.
Was this what help looked like when you didn’t ask for it?
Was this what love looked like, when it wore a badge or a crest?
Her fingers curled into fists in her lap, nails biting into her biceps.
“So it’s not merit,” she said, flatly. “It’s history.”
“No,” Caitlyn said quickly. “Vi— you earned the scores. The grant is real. But… yes, I think Eleanor wanted to make sure you could actually take the offer. Quietly.”
She glanced at Caitlyn again, and her expression had shifted — not cold, not angry, but distant in a way that seemed to be coated in hesitance.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” she said quietly in a voice that wasn’t shaking just as it wasn’t steady either. “Whether it means I’m lucky… or just owned.”
Caitlyn didn’t speak right away. She let the silence settle, let Vi’s words breathe in the space between them — raw, careful, and jagged at the edges.
Her hand was still on the table but she didn’t reach this time. Not yet. Not when Vi looked like she was trying to hold herself together with sheer will.
“I don’t think you owe anyone anything,” Caitlyn said softly.
Her voice was steady, but her expression wasn’t. She was watching Vi like she wasn’t sure if she should keep going — or if she’d already said too much.
“I think… if they did help, if they made those choices back then — Grayson, my mother, even Vander — they didn’t do it expecting a thank you, or a return. They did it because someone needed protecting. Because you matter just as Powder and everyone does.”
She paused, eyes lowering for a breath, like she needed to recalibrate.
“And maybe it wasn’t fair that no one told you and that you were left in the dark about all of it, the whole thing. I can’t defend that but I don’t think it was about control, or strings, or leverage. I think it was about love and maybe also about regret, you know? About trying to do something when the whole system was built to do nothing.”
Her gaze lifted again, meeting Vi’s.
“I’m not telling you this out of anything other than plainly telling you what I just found out,” Caitlyn said it quickly, her eyes locked on the most beautiful powder-blues she’s ever known. “I’ve never fully understood why Grayson abandoned the career she built, the job she loved… it always felt like something was off.”
Vi rolled her jaw, visibly chewing her inner cheek, eyes moving to the plate in front of her but not really looking at it.
“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Vi said finally after what felt like a long beat. “That people were helping behind the scenes, or that no one ever told me.”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s a lot to stomach…” Caitlyn said softly. “I didn’t want to keep it from you despite having no idea what it all means, if it means something other than that Eleanor…”
“Lied?” Vi offered around a scoff, then her eyes were on Caitlyn’s. “Or, if it suits better, she decided on what to look and what to disregard?”
“She bent the truth to protect a child because she could,” Caitlyn said with a grim smile, reachingo ut to place a hand on Vi’s forearm. Her arms were still crossed, a defensive curl that didn’t budge at first. “And it cost her career, her ethics… maybe even her peace.”
They were both quiet for a moment, the food cooling between them.
“And you?” Vi asked finally. “Does this mean or cost anything for you?”
“ No, I’m not here to add to the weight, Vi,” Caitlyn looked at where her thumb stroke Vi’s forearm lightly, then glanced back at her. “Part of the redirection of my project, of centering it on what happened to you and other zaunites, is about justice… so I do understand why she’d do it despite her methods.”
Vi exhaled slowly, a sound more tired than angry. “What I’m thinking about is… what if it backfires? What if someone really looks into it and comes for Powder in five or ten years? It took you a few hours to piece this together — no offense.”
Caitlyn’s expression folded in on itself — the kind of quiet pull Vi recognized now. Thoughtfulness edged with concern, yet this time her hand didn’t tense. If anything, it relaxed.
“Well…” Caitlyn said, gaze steady now. “We could spend the next hours or days trying to unpack what this means for our families, our city, the ethics of systems we didn’t create but somehow are in the middle of… or.”
Vi’s brow lifted. “Or?”
“Or,” Caitlyn said again, lifting her other hand to brush some of Vi’s still lightly damp hair away from her face, towel long discarded. “We could be two teenagers who are having a delicious lasagna on a Wednesday. Who have an entire house to ourselves and zero classes until tomorrow.”
Vi’s lip twitched. “Is this you trying to seduce me with carbs and escapism?”
“Maybe,” Caitlyn gave a very small, very self-satisfied smile. “ I’d more than happy to just carry some of the weight, whatever you’d let me .”
Vi leaned forward, her chair creaking softly, her breath coming out somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “You really wanna press pause on potential political intrigue and possible future indictments?”
“I want to press pause on everything that isn’t you,” Caitlyn said simply. “Even if it’s only for today or just long enough to remember we’re allowed to be young and alive and—” ‘stupidly in love,’ her brain autocompleted what her tongue halted behind her teeth.
Vi arched her other eyebrow at her. “... and reckless?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, teenagers on a school break, house to ourselves…”
For a moment, Vi said nothing, then she nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders starting to melt. “Yeah, yeah… good food, hot girl across the table, yeah.”
“Who are you calling a girl ?” Caitlyn lifted an eyebrow. “I’m a masterclass detective!”
“A goddess, truly!” Vi’s grin was all teeth and heat. “A seductress with napkin origami skills. Omakase.”
That earned a snort, and then Caitlyn leaned closer to kiss her, quickly but full of promise.
They returned to their plates, and Vi gave a theatrical sigh of relief. “Thank Gods ,” she said, forking a bite. “I thought you were gonna, like, rope me into making a timeline of events or one of those web linking people and places and facts after this.”
“Oh no,” Caitlyn said, lifting her water glass with mock solemnity. “We have far more important things to investigate.”
“Like using that ganache George left in the fridge?” Vi asked, lips quirking. “Some late s’mores?”
“Well, maybe,” Caitlyn replied, eyes gleaming as she held her gaze over the rim of her glass. “But I was thinking we could take it to bed.”
Vi choked on her bite. “Take what to bed?!”
“The ganache, ” Caitlyn said with faux innocence. “And maybe the fruit, too. Should taste amazing on you.”
Vi narrowed her eyes, her face burning as she reached for her water, coughing out of control. “You are so gonna be the death of me.”
Caitlyn tilted her head, her smile pure sin. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
And that was it, when the moment tipped and their quiet turning into promise, the air warmed with more than just garlic and tomato before they decided not to bother with clearing the table. Some messes, after all, were best when shared, made together.