#almost lay down to sleep but noticed one last pin in my freakin bed

[snowshinobi]

[sheisbornadreamer]

Blend in, chapter six

Disclaimer: Sex without consent is bad. 'Nuff said. This is fiction, not sex-ed

Warnings: graphic male on male content

Chapter six

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"No one needs to know"

There was a short silence. Yamato continued to stare at the floor, not daring to look up. Tai was till sitting so close, if he would just look his way once he might do something. If he did, Yamato would have to stop him for the third time and that just sounded so hard he didn't want to risk it.

-'-

He's freezing. There are goose-bumps all over his arms, legs and chest. He throws the window yet another look, noting for the tenth time that it's still closed. He's sweating, that's what's making him shiver from cold. At the same time he's burning hot. The sheets are moist from sweat and the cover is already ripped off in annoyance. It's lying in a pile on the floor beside his bed. He closes his eyes again and continues stroking himself, letting no noise whatsoever out through his close-bitten teeth. All the words, motions and noises are flashing through his head, letting him relive the event he's been trying to ignore the last couple of days.

-'-

Tai sighed in frustration. "Matt, you can't possibly expect me to believe that you don't want to."

Yamato frowned. Why was he so confident? Was it written all over his face?

'Tai is so freakin' hot I just can't resist him!' Yeah right…

…right?

"Just get over yourself for once, will you" he mumbled, not sounding as convincing as he'd like to. They sat there silently, Yamato staring at the carpet, Taichi staring at… whatever he was staring at.

"Why do you try so hard?" The brunet asked softly. "You're not gonna lose anything, y'know. And you're definitely not gonna win anything by holding back." When Yamato didn't answer, Taichi gently lifted his chin to look him in the eye. Yamato batted it away, giving him a cold glare. He looked like a dreadful dog, protecting his food. If he'd be able to, the blond would've growled. However, he wasn't a dog with sharp teeth, and his glare wasn't enough to stop the other boy.

"You're gay."

Yamato pounced on him, making the other teen hit his head on the couch.

However, the couch was quite soft so unfortunately for Yamato, he didn't hurt himself. Luck just didn't seem to be on the blonde's side this evening.

He pressed him down with all his weight, feeling a strong urge to just choke him right there. And at the same time, a strong urge to… do something else. Taichi grinned up at him, feeling slightly like an underdog being pinned down like this and dangerously glared at. But he had him right where he wanted him. He reached his hands out and stroked the blonde's hips. Yamato's glare changed into a frightened and almost begging stare. Perhaps because he was realizing how much this was affecting him, how small his chance was to resist. He was loosing.

Taichi smiled and stroked his back, reached lower and massaged, squeezed and caressed with no mercy. Yamato shut his eyes, hanging his head. His breath was shaking slightly, still trying to hold back any possible sound that was threatening to escape his lips. Taichi pulled him down, forcing their midsections together. Yamato stifled a groan, burying his face into Taichi's shoulder. The brunet turned his head, searching for the blonde's lips. He kissed his cheek, temple and hair, trying to elicit the musician's hidden face. Finally Yamato's lips met his and he didn't think twice before slipping his tongue into his friend's mouth.

-'-

He had no idea it would feel so good doing the wrong thing. It's like he's laughing at his paranoid self, ignoring its pleases for him to stop. Stop doing what he's not allowed to do. Not by anyone.

He likes that thought.

-'-

Yamato was helpless; Taichi's hands continued to massage his thighs, stroking their way up over his ass, inciting him to grind down against him. They went down between his legs, stroking the inside of his thighs and other areas. Yamato moaned into the kiss and started to grind his hips uncontrollably. Taichi moaned back, affectionately kissing along his neck. The blond started panting, finding it harder and harder to be quiet when Taichi's hands were everywhere. Trying to control the situation at least a little, he started fighting for dominance by intensifying the kiss and grab on to the brunet's hair. Taichi moaned, arching up towards him. Obviously Yamato wasn't the only one starting to lose control.

-'-

His mouth drops open and he tilts his head back as he intensifies the act, biting his teeth harder to hold back a groan. He can still feel Taichi's body under him, arching and moving in impatience. Longing for his. He has to force himself to keep to the original story, but it's hard not to add details. Still, reality is so much more arousing than fantasy, no matter how kinky the fantasy might be. And this playing in his mind is real.

-'-

Yamato hardly remembered the other teen leading him into his own bedroom, gently closing the door behind them. He wasn't really aware of his clothes being pulled off and thrown on the floor. He barely noticed anything until Taichi's naked body lay down over him and his mouth covered his once again, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body.

-'-

Yamato stares at his reflection, searching for something in those sharp blue eyes. The cold light in the bathroom makes him look sick. Maybe he is sick. He's been staring at his reflection for so long he doesn't recognize it anymore. There's no character in it, just a sick-looking, empty person with piercing blue eyes. He's not in shock any longer, though. His breathing has gone back to normal, his cheeks are cool again and the cold sweat has dried, forming a thin layer on his skin. He should shower. That's what he had planned to do when he'd bolted into the bathroom in the first place.

Minutes ago, maybe ten –or thirty even. An hour? Somehow he had ended up staring at himself in the mirror, not moving an inch. He briefly wonders what time it is, thinking that he should try to get some sleep for school the next morning. Then he goes back to the present and stares at his creepy reflection. Searching. Asking. Waiting.

-'-

The feeling was so intense he wanted to scream just to release some of the tension that was building up. Taichi hips rocked with his, his legs smoothly running along his, his mouth all over his neck and ear, making his skin wet from his hot breathing. With his hands over his, holding his arms over his head loosely, he ground his hips again and Yamato let out a loud groan.

-'-

He manages to tear himself away from the empty eyes and head for the shower, instantly being reminded of the shame. It hadn't even been a dream. There is nothing innocent or random in what he's done no matter how he tries to look at it. He hadn't even tried to escape the thoughts of his best friend. The bare thought still gives him those weird feelings, as he stands in the shower ready to turn the water on. He can't even blame it on not realizing what it was, or not understanding. Because he got it alright. How can you not get it when you're consciously thinking back of when you had sex with your male friend, replaying it over and over and shamelessly jerking off as you lay there in your bed with your eyes closed, ignoring everything else?

After all he has done to control himself and convince everyone that he's straight, Yamato was almost devastated when he realized he'd let himself down by fantasizing about another male after waking up in the middle of the night, not being able to go back to sleep.

Just like that.

-'-

From there on everything went fast. His legs were shortly pulled up around Taichi's hips and his mouth was parted from his, being left missing the warmth and then rapidly shutting to hold back a cry of pain.

-'-

Yamato closes his eyes as the water pours down over him. It's official then.

He's into guys. He's attracted to Taichi, out of all people, and not only has he already slept with him; he'd like to do it again. And again, and again…

So… what to do next?

'I'll have to avoid Tai, obviously. I can't be his friend anymore; I was stupid to think that in the first place. If necessary I'll avoid Sora as well. It's for the best anyway.'

Yamato sighs and tilts his head back, letting the hot water run down his face.

Once he's cleaned himself –already in a slightly better mood- he steps out and dries himself up, ready to get at least a few hours of sleep before going to school.

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Tuesday 10.25 A.M.

"You've seen Matt?"

Sora sighs, throwing her brown-headed friend a look. "That's the third time you've asked that and no, I haven't seen him."

The brunet grumbles something, sulking. He slumps down beside her.

"Thought we finally were okay y'know, and then he starts again… I don't get him! Not even girls are that complicated."

Sora shakes her head in agreement. "Nope." She feels a very strong urge to comment on her friend's sudden need to talk to her about his love-problems. Or friend-problems, she' not even sure of what it is by now. But why would she care; it's not her problem. She glances at Taichi, sighing again at the frown on his face. Her problem or not, her friend is down and she's the only one there to comfort.

"Look, maybe it's just a coincidence. This doesn't have to mean he's avoiding you."

Taichi merely shakes his head. "It's not a coincidence. He was weird yesterday too."

"You mean when he hit you?" Sora asks, tilting her head.

"No, not that." Taichi pauses, shrugging. "Well yeah, that was weird too, but I mean after that. When we were at my place. Everything seemed fine like we were just friends, y'know? But then he started getting so tense. Like when he was going to clean my face up 'cause it had blood on it and everything…"

"You mean he actually hurt you?" Sora interrupts, looking worried.

Taichi pauses and blinks, briefly loosing the thread. "No, it was just a small scratch but he wanted to clean it; went on about blood poisoning and shit." he smirks, shaking his head. "So I let him because he's so freakin’ stubborn, and then I happened to look at him 'cause he was practically blocking everything else… and he got awkward! And not just a little awkward." Taichi goes silent, observing a few students passing. After a couple of seconds Sora looks at him.

"What do you mean 'not just a little'?"

Taichi blinks, looking up at her. "Oh, uh… he refused to finish and ran home." He shrugs.

"Weird."

"Yep." Taichi spots a redhead through he crowd, straightening. "Hey, Koushiro! You've seen Blondie?"

Koushiro stops and looks around, finds him and Sora sitting in one of the couches and shakes his head in response, shrugging. "Sorry."

"Well let me know if you do." Taichi mumbles, sinking back into the couch with a disappointed look on his face.

Koushiro nods. "Sure Taichi." He disappears into the crowd again leaving the two teens.

"You should leave him alone, Tai." Sora mutters from his right, sinking deeper into the couch.

"Who? Izzy? I just asked if-"

"No, I mean Matt. Remember him?"

The brown-eyed teen glares at her. "I did that, remember? That turned out just great, didn't it?"

"But that's what I'm saying! He's too sensitive for this. He can't handle it. Don't you see?" She shifted to face him fully. "You can't go back; you've already failed miserably. Stop trying before you end up hating each other."

Taichi stares at her, the words finally sinking in. "You mean stop being friends?" He pauses and waits for a 'no, I didn't mean it like that…' but all he gets is silence and Sora carefully studying his reaction.

"You're kidding, right?"

Sora shrugs and Taichi gaps at her. "What the hell's got into you? How can you even suggest that?"

"Because you're too blind to see he's not worth it!" Sora exclaims, looking deep into his eyes, trying to make him understand. However, all she can see in those dark brown eyes is confusion, shock and anger. He stands up, leaving without another word. She looks after him. 'Why can neither of them listen? Are they being stupid on purpose?’ It's not she doesn't realize how precious their friendship has been to both of them, she just doesn't get why they keep ignoring the fact that it's not going back. It'll never be the same.

She gazes after him worriedly. He's not storming away, like Yamato would've done. The football player just walks slowly as if he's just shutting everything out, too tired to listen.

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He is once again having lunch without his best friend. This time he doesn't have any company at all. Not that he'd want any, although usually he doesn't like eating alone without anyone to talk to, but this day he doesn't feel the need to talk to anyone. Sora's words keep echoing in his head, even though he doesn't want to listen. They hurt. Not only because his childhood friend actually thinks that, after all this time he and Yamato had grown to become friends, but because she's usually right.

What if she's right this time as well?

There's a reason Taichi always comes back every time Yamato pushes him away, stubbornly forcing himself past his mask and cool eyes to find the human in there. And kick that human's ass for pushing him away in the first place. There's a reason he puts up with everything, and always gives him another chance. The reason he does is because he's seen the side no one else has. First time he saw that side, all his worries of that his endless efforts might have been a waste of time, disappeared. Yamato is a person who grows. He's not that kind of person who gives it all the first few days and then starts disappointing as the truth comes out. As the real person starts to become visible. The more Taichi got to know him, the more everything started to pay off. All the efforts and suffering and constant rejection was more than made up for.

Sure, he didn't completely change into a wonderful person just because Taichi discovered his real self. But the brunet always knew it was there and once he'd seen it, he never wanted to lose it. It was a comfort knowing that deep down Yamato cared, and wanted him to stay.

So Sora can just shut up about leaving him, because that is not happening, Taichi thinks to himself. I'd rather have it the other way.

He had earned Yamato's trust and he still earns it. He's not going to throw that away and leave. He doesn't want to either, no matter how difficult his friend is being at the time. That side of him is still there, very well hidden, but it's still there…

"Thinking now again?"

Taichi looks up into a pair of purple eyes and frowns, looking away. "What do you want?"

"Nothing. I just couldn't find an empty seat other than here. Do you mind if I…"

"Yes."

Ken is silent for a moment, hesitating. "Was that a 'yes, you can sit here' or 'yes, I do mind'?"

"I don't feel like talking, okay? Why do think I'm sitting here alone?" Taichi glares up at him again.

Ken blinks a few times before frowning a little. "I'm not going to talk to you. I just think it'd be pretty difficult to eat while standing up."

Taichi makes a face at that comment, glaring back at the table. "Well I don't care, you can stand all you want."

"With all do respect, this is a public place for everyone. I'm sorry if you don't want my company but I'm taking that seat." He puts his tray down across from the brunet, ignoring his intense glare.

"Don't you have friends?" Taichi rudely bursts out, giving him a belittling look. "I mean you can't just come here hoping that I would wanna sit here and listen to your fucking theories about me, just because no one else wants to either!"

For a short moment he expects the younger boy to get upset or at least offended, but he just bluntly stares back at him.

"You're really frustrated, aren't you?" he asks, observing him closely. "You're pretty rude to take that out on me, but I guess a can overlook that considering what you're going through."

"Ugh, you're so annoying, you know that?" Taichi growls with a reproachful look on his face.

Ken smiles and shrugs. "Been told that a few times."

They sit in silence for a while. Taichi starts eating again and Ken attempts to try out the food as well, but wrinkles his nose once he smells it and puts the fork back on the plate. He takes a sip of his water instead, looking back at the older teen.

"So you don't want to talk about it?"

Taichi him a warning look and the purple-eyed boy holds his hands up in defense. "Alright, I won't ask again."

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Yamato stares at the blackboard dully, blocking everything out. He hasn't listened to one word the teacher's been saying; he's been too busy trying to convince himself that everything is fine.

Today luck has finally been with him, keeping him from bumping into to the brunet that he is avoiding. ‘Temporally avoiding’, he corrects himself. ‘Once he gets the message he'll probably give up. Or Sora will talk him into giving up.

And then everything will work out…’

He won't destroy everything by letting Taichi know how he feels. Why not stop now before everything gets worse? It's bad enough that he didn't get it earlier. He should've got the hint when they made out in the bathroom. He should've got the hint when he couldn't take his eyes off him that day Taichi took him home to rest. He should've got the hint when he let Taichi trick him into bed. He should've got the hint when he kissed him, when it felt just like what they try to describe in all the romantic movies. He should've got the hint when he could hardly look at him yesterday, when he couldn't help but avoid him. He should've got the hint when he got absolutely paralyzed just because his warm brown eyes were directed towards him.

But no, he kept on denying. He didn't admit it until he found himself fantasizing about him just end up jerking off, not able to stop himself.

That was too obvious to deny.

Yamato shakes his head, he shouldn't think about that. Not only because it is very inappropriate, but also because if he even starts, he won't be able to stop. That was what had happened yesterday, when everything had seemed so normal for once…

-'-

"Just sit still and stop whining!"

Yamato's hands, that had been so hesitant and boggling at first, -almost afraid to touch him- were now pulling Taichi's head back stubbornly, forcing him to face him.

"Alright, alright" The brunet growled, glaring up at him. Yamato continued to clean his jaw-line with that annoying wad of cotton that just kept stinging whenever it made contact with the open wound –which it constantly did since that was what Yamato had insisted to clean up. He didn't even know what that scorching liquid was, but he decided not to ask. He observed the blue-eyed boy for a while, wishing he'd finish already. Not that he was a wimp or anything, but this felt very unnecessary.

Yamato noticed his gaze after a while, meeting it with his own. To his surprise he felt his heart speed up when he looked into those brown orbs.

Not because the look actually meant something, it was just a very weird reaction he got for no particular reason. It made him freeze, wondering what the hell was going on. But instead of calming down (even though he tried his hardest) he started to mentally hear the brown-haired boy breathe into his ear, letting out soft moans of pleasure with that deep sensual voice. His heavy breathing and moans filled Yamato's head up, making a deep blush spread over his cheeks. He could feel fingertips wandering over his skin, curiously exploring his body, growing more and more brave by every second and every noise that the blond boy made.

Taichi stared oddly at him, raising an eyebrow. "Matt?"

He stood up, no –jumped up from his chair as if it had been on fire. Taichi nearly fell on his ass since the other teen's knee almost knocked his chair over. He looked up at him, confused and surprised, but didn't get a single word out before his friend had slammed the front door shut behind him.

-'-

It's not that he doesn't understand why he acts and feels this way. You could just ask any other seventeen year-old guy to be around the girl he's into and see how he'd act. People act stupid around the persons they like. Want, or whatever. That's why they don't talk to them –unless they're one of those annoyingly confident people who actually can do that- and just observe from afar. Why should he have to constantly be around the guy he wanted right now? The guy he fantasized about. The guy he couldn't look in the eye. The one he acted weird around. The one he had to pull away from.

His best friend.

Just two more classes and then I'm free, Yamato thinks in an attempt to cheer himself up. Then I've made the first day. First day is always the worst…

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His blond-haired friend is currently out of Taichi's head. He's walking through the hall, just ended last period and heading for his locker in the next corridor. Walking beside him is one of his playmates, chatting about last game, the next game, and everything having to do with football. Taichi isn't complaining. For the first time this Tuesday he's not pondering over his missing buddy, but simply chatting away like any other normal teen without problems should do. He hasn't realized before now, but he has actually missed that. This whole drama with Yamato has taken a lot of his attention and time, which he hasn't really noticed until now when he's finally blocking that out and focusing on other stuff.

Happily unaware of who is about to show up, Yamato is just about to close his bag, softly humming on a song he often plays at home (low enough for no one to hear of course) with a faint smile on his face. To his own surprise he has actually survived the day, without any anxiety attacks whatsoever, and no involuntary meetings with his no-longer best friend.

Lifting his bag and swinging it over his shoulder, he slowly starts walking towards the exit. His class had ended early, due to a confused and pretty much helpless sub, who had let them leave since there wasn't anything left for them to do in there. It wasn't his fault however, not entirely. When the students found out the teacher didn't have any tasks left for them planned, they saw their way out. And when it comes to escaping class just a little bit earlier (especially the last one of the day), students always manage to co-operate.

Yamato isn't completely sure, but he's got a feeling it was the substitute from that detention he had a while a go. The one he had together with Taichi. The one they escaped. None of that information would specify any detention since Yamato often got one, Taichi often got one at the same time, and they often escaped… But it was the one (and only) time they'd had that moody one with an "extreme headache" and light blue eyes. Fortunately for Yamato, he (if it even was him) hadn't recognized him this time.

Just as he walks out of the school, he hears someone calling after him. Just a second later he can hear someone running after. And that person's horrifyingly familiar voice makes his light mood sink and makes him freeze right at the spot.

So close…

-'-

Taichi's gaze happens to land on a head filled with dirty blond hair. For some reason it stays there for several seconds before he actually realizes whom the owner of that hair is. Successfully interrupting his playmate in a middle of a sentence, he exclaims 'Matt' and adds a quick 'bye' before he runs off. The cut-off teen stops, staring after him. Then he mutters 'weird-ass' and glares a little before brushing it off and continuing through the hall.

"Matt!" Taichi yells as the stupid –and apparently deaf- musician walks out through the doors. He follows desperately, slamming the doors open and stops dead to see his friend already standing still in the middle of the schoolyard with his bag over his shoulder and back against him.

"Matt! Where've you been? Why are you avoiding me? What the hell's wrong?" Taichi's voice is just getting more desperate and louder with each unanswered question. "What did I…? Hey, wait up!"

He easily catches up with the already walking boy and blocks the way. Yamato tries to get past but the brunet –being the mature guy he is- stubbornly follows his every move, keeping him from getting away.

"What the hell's wrong, Matt? Why did you act so weird yesterday? Did I do somethin'? Or say? What did I do? Why aren't you answering? Why…?"

"SHUT UP!" Matt explodes, then immediately tries to calm himself down from having an outbreak that has threatened to come out the whole day.

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, bracing himself. Then he manages to say the words. The whole sentence comes out, even though he thought that was impossible. But he doesn't manage to look his friend in the eye and maybe that's why it doesn't convince the brunet enough to leave him the hell alone.

"What do you mean we're not friends anymore? Why not? I thought we were supposed to move on?" Taichi rambles, not making any sense out of that sudden answer. Still the blond had said it like it explains everything, like he should just say 'oh' and walk away. He automatically throws out an arm when Yamato makes his second try to get home.

"Don't be an idiot for once." The blond says with a steady voice, sounding way more impassive than he's feeling inside.

Taichi looks like a child who's just been hit by his parent without knowing the reason why. The expression on his face practically screams out "what did I do?" But Yamato doesn't see it. He can't look at him. He's got to make it.

Taichi lets him pass, his eyes following him for a long minute.

Then he runs after.

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I hadn't planned to end this chapter here. But then I decided it was a good place to stop, and it became a cliffhanger! Don't know about you guys, but I'm really starting to like those, haha.

I'm sorry for those of you who expected lemon, but it was better than nothing, eh? I promise it'll come.

Oh, I almost forgot, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! XD It's such a motivation, you have no idea how much I appreciate them. So keep'em coming 'cause I need them!

Thanks for your time.

[artificialqueens]

cirque d'amour - chapter ten (trixya) - cal

A/N - i actually posted this to ao3 ages ago and forgot to submit here - sorry!

i realised i never named latrice’s club - here it is; the oscars. named after a gay bar in my city and appropriate ‘cause latrice is a musical man.

i thought y'all deserved a bit of floofy goodness after all the drama…rest assured, there is more to come of both.

“So you and Willam definitely aren’t a thing anymore?”

Trixie was sat atop Courtney’s marble kitchen counter in her silky nightgown, her legs swinging absentmindedly at she picked at her cereal. She shook her head miserably.

“You need to eat.” Courtney remarked, eyeballing her bowl.

“Why do all of you act like my friggin’ mother?” Trixie croaked, rubbing her eye with a balled fist. “First Willam, now you…”

“You need mothering, Mattel,” Courtney deadpanned, her eyebrows arched. “Try telling me you don’t.”

Trixie mimicked Courtney’s words childishly; Courtney responded by throwing a balled-up sock in her direction, which narrowly skimmed Trixie’s ear.

“Well, you’ve been moping all week. It’s high time you get out of this apartment.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, you never will be if you wallow.”

“I’m not wallowing.”

Courtney shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, flashing her brightest smile. “Then you’ll miss the Cirque’s party that Alaska is throwing tonight…”

Trixie glared at Courtney, her stubbornness refusing to release her from its deadly grip. “’Guess I will.”

Trixie crawled back into bed when Courtney had left the apartment. She hadn’t drawn the curtains for so long that she had almost forgotten what her room looked like in the light of day.

She had been moping; she knew that was the truth. It had been a week since the fateful conversation with Willam and she was feeling broken in ways she never thought was possible. She was being eaten alive by a primary emotion; guilt. She didn’t deserve to go to the Cirque’s party. She didn’t deserve to have any sort of enjoyment. So her plan was to remain in bed until the inevitability of death by misery.

The guilt spilled out into her other thoughts; she was also feeling irate and saddened by the fact she had not heard anything from Katya. She hadn’t told her about what had happened with Willam – she figured that was a conversation they ought to have in person – but she had sent a couple of texts that she had simply ignored.

Trixie sighed, clicking open a playlist on her Spotify that she had in reserve for situations such as these – not that she was being dramatic. Trixie Mattel was never dramatic.

*

Trixie woke hours later with a fright – something had jolted her bed, and she bolted upright, afraid of an earthquake.

“Wha-ha-happen?” she stammered, her half-asleep eyes darting wildly around the room until they landed on a broadly grinning Courtney who was crouched on her bed.

Trixie’s brow furrowed as the thralls of sleep released her and reality dawned. “You cunt, you scared me.”

Courtney was bouncing lightly against the mattress, causing her beautiful blonde curls to dance. Trixie couldn’t help but crack a slight smile at that.

“Jesus, I’m surprised your face didn’t break,” Courtney grinned, playfully cuffing Trixie’s jaw with her fist. “Come on – you’re getting up. We’re going out.”

Trixie groaned, rolling her eyes to the back of her head and throwing herself back down onto her bed. “Courtney, why? Why can’t you just leave me to die in peace?”

***

Alaska – or Justin, as he was out of drag – eyeballed the map of the United States that was splayed across the tiny table in Latrice’s empty bar. His over-plumped lips were smacking every few seconds as he carefully placed a pin at each destination.

Katya was sat opposite him with Violet, compiling a playlist for their final L.A show; their determination to make it the best show yet never dampened for a moment.

“What’s that, like, dramatic violin piece?” Violet hummed, forever vague and somewhat unhelpful, Katya couldn’t help but think. “It would be dope as hell for Milk’s performance.”

“Oh, okay, sure,” Katya barked a laugh, pretending to type “dramatic violin piece” into Spotify. “I totally know which one you mean.”

Violet pushed Katya’s shoulder playfully. “Shut up. You’ll know the one. From the British version of 'Got Talent’.”

“I can’t believe you watch that garbage,” Katya scoffed in response.

“Simon does things to me,” Violet giggled with an exaggerated shudder. “It was those women with the electric violins.”

“Oh, bitch,” Katya beamed, scribbling the name (Palladio) on a piece of lined paper that was so disorganised that it could only ever make sense to her. “You’re so right.”

“Aren’t I always?” Violet batted her eyelashes at her.

Roy was hovering nearby – he was giving an air of disinterested boredom, but Katya knew better. He was just as excited as the rest of them about the impending tour.

“Was the witch box really necessary, miss thing?”

Katya grinned broadly at her friend. “Ab-sol-ute-ly.”

Latrice, in his wild excitement for the closing show, had allowed a portion of their budget to be blown on some party-style amenities for the night. Each of the Cirque had been granted permission to pick something to buy, and Katya couldn’t resist the eerie rubber man trapped in a box who “read your fortune”, or rather, spouted out random tarot cards.

Katya cast a loving eye over it now, sat in the middle of the empty room. The box was painted purple with gold lettering and patterns emblazoned all over, and the man himself looked like a British villain from a Bond movie; complete with a top-hat.

Roy gestured for Katya to join him, away from Violet’s prying eyes. Katya skipped towards him with over-enthused joy - she really was happy today, being here, in her home, surrounded by her family.

“I wanted to give you a heads up,” Roy hissed, his head dipped close to Katya’s. “Courtney text me and she’s bringing Trixie tonight.”

Katya’s heart skipped a beat. Trixie. Trixie was coming. Trixie, whom she had been avoiding. Trixie, who only last week she had realised she was desperately in love with. “Um.”

“Have you still not spoken to her?”

Katya suddenly felt hot all over - her hands were beginning to clam up, despite the coolness of the building. “Um.”

“You’re so freakin' dumb.”

Katya’s chest almost broke from the sigh that escaped her lips. “I know. I just…didn’t know what to do, Roy. I’m super dumb. I - just. I don’t know.”

Roy’s eyes softened at the edges ever so slightly - something so discreet, that only those who truly knew Roy could ever notice such a thing. “Miss thing, please will you communicate with the girl tonight? Take it from an old bitch who knows: lay out your stupid heart and get a final answer. We’re all sick of the drama.”

Katya gave Roy a shaky smile, knowing that this was his unique way of giving advice and supporting her. She reached out to grasp his hand in her own. “You got it, Bee.”

Roy shook the contact away with disgust. “Don’t touch me.”

*

The Oscars looked beautiful by the time the decorating was done.

There were lights strung across every wall, creating a hazy white beam across the empty dance-floor. There was a giant banner strewed across the largest wall, painted messily with rainbows, fire, and other circus figures – and the giant, bold words “TOUTES NOS FÉLICITATIONS CIRQUE!”

Violet was admiring her handiwork, the tell-tale signs of paint still flecking her impossibly long nails. “I’m an artist.”

Katya followed her gaze with a chuckle of agreement. They weren’t long from beginning their celebrations, and Katya couldn’t help but be somewhat strategic about her choice of outfit – she was wearing a black sequin body suit with dark tights, and large, shiny black boots. Her hair was a wild tangle of blonde waves and she spent longer than was necessary perfecting her smoky eyes. If this was the day she was to make or break whatever her relationship was with Trixie, she at least wanted to look good doing it.

Violet glared at her with a side-eye. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Katya merely shrugged, her smile betraying nothing.

Alaska entered the building in a puff of what could only be described as whore’s bath – her scent was hugely intoxicating and Katya forget for a single moment that she was a man in a wig.

She had a strange bird’s nest-style wig resting on her head, and her dress looked like it might have been made out of garbage bags. From what Katya had seen of Justin, she believed that it could truly be made of garbage bags, despite the thousands of dollars in his bank account. His face was sculpted into feminine perfection and despite herself, Katya stared.

“Full drag for a private party?” Violet scoffed, her eyes huge in her petite little face. “That’s a bit extra. Don’t let Roy see.”

Alaska shuffled with bent wrists towards the pair of them, and she laughed softly as she noted the dropping of Katya’s jaw. “Sorry, I’m not into the puss.”

“Dang,” Katya swung her fist, amused at herself.

“’Lasky!” Latrice bellowed from the empty bar, lining up a bottle of everything he could get his huge paws on. “You look fabulous.”

Alaska wiggled her shoulders at him with a raised upper lip. “Oh, stop.”

“The rest of the crew should be here any minute,” Latrice announced, carefully balancing a tower of plastic cups on the side of the bar. “Vi, can you set up the music?”

Violet nodded, her eyebrows still raised at Alaska as she glided off towards the stage.

“So, you’re a lesbian,” Alaska grinned, grasping Katya’s bicep and giving it a teasing squeeze. Katya was somewhat surprised at the interaction they were having – out of drag, Justin was all business.

“It’s that obvious?” she asked with a laugh.

The front door of the club swung open quite suddenly, interrupting the banter between Katya and Alaska. Katya’s eyes were instantly drawn to the striking pair whose heals clacked against the wooden floor as they came closer.

Trixie and Courtney were really quite a beautiful duo – Courtney was in a dazzling pink dress that clung to her body perfectly, her hair twisted up and sitting on top of her head. Trixie wore a floral dress of interlacing purple, white, and gold flowers. The front of her hair was pulled back behind her head; the rest was flowing down the sides of her face, slightly kinked at the ends. She had a crown of huge white flowers sitting on the crest of her head, and a ring through the middle of her septum. Since when did she get that done?

Katya felt her breath catch - Trixie was otherworldly.

Katya’s gaze was faraway and she was sure that everyone in the vicinity could hear the rapid thumping of her heart.

Alaska chuckled beside her, missing nothing. “It’s that obvious.”

*

It didn’t take long for the party to begin once all the guests had arrived – it was mostly the Cirque and their extended family, but there were also some friends of Latrice’s, and even a couple of loyal Cirque fans who had supported them from the humble beginning.

The air was light and full of good feeling. Milk and Courtney were a tangle of limbs, as they so often were now, sinking into a single bean-bag, each with a glass of champagne and their heads thrown back in fits of laughter. Latrice was acting as a bar-host, cheerfully filling every waiting glass. Kennedy and Roy were milling around the little group of fans, their grins broad against their lips; and Violet was attempting to teach a tipsy friend of Latrice how to suspend themselves on an aerial hoop.

Katya had been spending time with Jay and Raja – her Cirque tour planning had overcome her life this last week, and she felt a twinge of guilt at how angry she’d been with the pair of them the night Trixie had indulged in their cocaine.

After a while, she spied Trixie leaning against the bar; alone. Katya had shared a few heated glances with her, and even the beginnings of a smile on Trixie’s lips, but she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to speak to her alone.

“I’ll be back,” she hissed in Raja’s direction, who smirked knowingly and nodded.

Katya could feel her pulse quicken as she swept towards Trixie, whose elbows were leaning against the bar with her body dipped forward; damn, her ass looked good. Katya shook the thought from her head, squinting her eyes so that her vision was blurred.

“Hey,” she said, mirroring Trixie’s stance. Trixie glanced up with barely veiled bewilderment.

My god, she looked beautiful. The flower crown made her seem precious and fae - much like how Katya had first perceived her, in the hot crowd that fateful night - and her make up was softer than it usually was. Katya couldn’t help but gaze at her mouth as it parted with surprise.

“Oh, you’re talking to me now?” Trixie quipped, though her eyes were smiling.

“I guess so,” Katya shrugged, noticing the cup clenched in her hand. “Drinking?”

Trixie shook her head. “Not tonight.”

“Really?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Trixie scoffed, taking a delicate sip of her non-alcohol.

Katya wheezed, throwing her hands up dramatically. Trixie glared at her for a moment, before her eyes widened at something beyond what Katya could see.

“Is that —” she pushed herself off the bar. “A ball pool?”

Katya grinned as she turned to follow Trixie’s gaze. “Yep - that’s Jay’s contribution to the party.”

“Oh, bitch,” Trixie bounced from foot to foot, her excitement child-like. She grasped Katya’s hand in her’s and dragged her towards the corner of the club.

The ball pool was exactly that - a blow-up box, filled with hundreds of brightly coloured plastic balls. Fairy lights were hanging above it, casting a mythical glow on the untouched sea of colour. Katya hovered by the side of it, expecting Trixie to dive in; but she felt a sudden shove against her back and she went tumbling into the pit face-first.

“Bitch!” Katya choked, batting the balls away from her face. Trixie launched herself into the pit beside her, squealing with delight.

“That’s for ignoring me,” she said breathlessly, her eyes bright and dancing with mischievous glee.

Katya responded by throwing a red ball at Trixie’s arm - which missed its target and bounced back into the pit.

Trixie raised an eyebrow. “Are you that old that you can’t even aim a ball anymore?”

“Bitch,” Katya exclaimed a second time, tugging Trixie’s arm to bring her down into the sea of baubles. Trixie screamed, laughter creasing her eyes.

Katya threw a leg over the rise of Trixie’s hips and straddled her, her hands pinning Trixie’s own above her head. “Am I old, Tracy?”

Trixie’s laughter was merely a shuddering breath now; tears of amusement cutting tracks into her make up. “Oh my god.”

Katya could feel the shudders of her laughter beneath her legs, and she smiled triumphantly as she released Trixie’s wrists from her grip.

Trixie’s laughter eventually subsided, and Katya rolled off her, to lie beside her against the satisfying clacking noise the balls made when they bumped together.

“So…”

Trixie was leaning on her side now, the palm of her hand cupping her chin.

“Are you gonna tell me why you were avoiding me?”

Katya’s muscles seized for a moment. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Honestly,” Katya breathed, fiddling with the balls collected at her feet. “I was upset by you leaving to go and see Willam.”

“I broke up with Willam.”

Katya’s eyes widened - she was not expecting that. “Y-you…”

“Right?”

Katya’s head began to spin with endless questions. “Come outside,” she urged, hooking her arm through Trixie’s and guiding her out of the ball pit, and away from the din of the party.

They exited through the side door by the bar; the night was young, and the sky was still light with the promise of the impending sunset. Katya parked Trixie at one of the outdoor tables, flicking a cigarette from the stash in her bra with impressive quickness. She remained standing and sparked up her lighter, fiddling with it for a moment before the fire ignited.

“I feel like I need a cigarette for this conversation,” Katya mumbled, her lips distorted by the filter.

“Bitch,” Trixie folded her arms, her eyebrows raised. “Even I need a cigarette for this conversation.”

Katya laughed nervously, taking a deep drag of poison into her lungs. The relief was almost instant as she let the coils of smoke exit her lips in a distorted cloud. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Trixie fidgeted on the bench, shuffling herself around like an impatient child. “I mean, uh. I told her that…she…that she deserved better. You know?”

Katya nodded, her eyes greeting Trixie’s for a moment - knowing there was more to it than that.

“She …asked me about you.”

Katya forgot about her cigarette - it was lingering between her middle and index fingers as her arms lay at her sides, and the embers were dangerously close to her skin. Her gaze was soft as she looked upon Trixie’s face, noting the way her nerves were painfully obvious in the way she held herself.

“I…” Trixie exhaled a breath, staring into Katya’s eyes. “I have feelings for you.”

Kaya’s mouth gaped; a flush of dizziness threatening to bring her to her knees. Her pulse was racing impossibly fast and she prayed for a moment to the universe to slow it down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Trixie replied, and Katya realised that her eyes were glistening with unshod tears.

“Hey,” Katya whispered, offering Trixie her hand. Trixie took it into her own gratefully, rising from the bench with a soft cry.

Katya enveloped Trixie into her warmest embrace, feeling her body shake with gentle sobs. Katya’s body was alight with love; feeling Trixie’s pressing against her own, but she quelled her own impossibly huge feelings to take care of Trixie’s in the moment.

“Trix, it’s okay. You can’t help feelings - they just are.”

Katya could feel Trixie nod against her. “I - I know. I just - I feel so guilty. On you, on Willam. On everyone.”

“That’s because you’re a good person,” Katya stated, moving out of the hug to look into Trixie’s eyes. “And I’m sure you know that - that I have feelings, too.”

Trixie gazed back at Katya with the beginnings of a watery smile playing on her lips.

“But - there’s no pressure for anything to happen,” Katya insisted, her hands on Trixie’s wrists. She gave them a light squeeze. “You’re my friend, first. Take all the time you need.”

“Katya,” Trixie whispered, her eyes softened and her lips parted just ever-so-slightly. Katya smiled, wiping the lingering tears from beneath Trixie’s eyes. She hovered her touch over Trixie’s nose for a moment. “When did this happen?”

“Oh, it’s not real,” Trixie laughed softly, poking at the ring through her septum. “I’m trying something new. Isn’t that what kids do nowadays when they go through a break up?”

Katya chuckled. “It’s cute - you should get it done.”

I am the great Zuccini, and I will reveal the card of your future!

Recognition dawned on Katya as she heard the bellowing voice, and her eyes grew wide with glee. “Oh, Trix, you gotta do this!”

“What the fuck was that?” Trixie gasped, her tone returning to some sense of normality and allowing Katya to lead her by the hand back into the soft din of the club. “And isn’t Zuccini a friggin' vegetable?”

Katya laughed heartily, dragging the beautiful Trixie towards the colourful box that was propped against the wall by the door. She beamed at her, gesturing for Trixie to approach the mystical man in the box.

“Katya,” Trixie scoffed, her gaze critical as it swept the great Zuccini. “Why?”

“Do it.”

“Okay, jeez.”

Trixie fed the machine a couple of quarters, and watched with barely disguised scepticism as the box lit up before her. Katya watched her face as the dancing lights cast shadows on the rise of her cheeks and the dimple of her chin - she was truly beautiful. And she liked her. Katya’s mind was still churning with disbelief and wonder.

The box shuddered and choked - Katya wondered for a moment if it was going to give up and die - but then, the box shot out a single card from the slot.

It landed face down against the dusty floorboards, and Trixie bent to pick it up.

“The lovers.”

She gazed at Katya with a raised eyebrow, the roses of her cheeks turning red.

Katya felt a burn under her skin as she blushed right back.