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Star Power Over Me - Part Two (Vixie/Trixya) - Pilandok

AN: Okay a few things: 1) part two ended up being much longer than I thought so I halfed it. 2) Katya isn’t here yet (kinda) but she will appear. 3) First time writing drag race fanfiction, experimenting w/ pronouns– ended up writing them as he out of drag and she in drag so it changes, whatever. 4) Smut-ish again? I don’t know why this keeps happening. 5) All lyrics that aren’t “Star Power” by Sonic Youth are mine. Thank you for reading.

Part One.

Trixie is surprisingly casual about everything. Violet was half-expecting that when the alcohol has seeped out of their system, Trixie was going to start freaking out about their morally dubious actions. Unexpectedly, however, and Violet wakes up to an empty bed and a note on the table.

Early flight today, sorry I can’t hang. Love you bitch. Xoxo T.

His handwriting is a lot less legible than Violet expected it to be. After reading the note, he takes a moment to gather his things before starting his journey back to his own hotel room. Practically stumbling out of the door, Violet isn’t exactly hung over, it’s just that he’s not a morning person at all; he prefers to start functioning at noon. He spots Trixie in the hallway, a few paces from the door, talking on the phone. For his part, Trixie doesn’t look hungover at all, not even a little tired.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m about to leave, yeah. I’ll be there on time, don’t worry.” Trixie looks up and sees Violet and smiles, he makes a gesture with his hand, telling Violet to wait for him. Violet nods groggily, rubbing his eyes. He waits for Trixie to finish his call but he isn’t sure exactly why or what for. The time of his phone reads 8:13 AM.

“Hey sorry,” Trixie apologizes when he walks over to Violet, “I have an early flight.”

“Mhm,” Violet answers, still not fully aware of his surroundings. Trixie appears to be amused at this.

“Here,” Trixie hands him his half-finished cup of coffee, “I drank some already but it’s still warm and you look like you could use some.”

Violet accepts the cup from Trixie and takes a sip. It seems to take effect immediately and he wakes up little. He stares at Trixie and wonders what he should say.

“Have a good flight,” he settles.

“I will. Go get some rest already, you look like you really need it,” Trixie says playfully.

“Don’t be rude,” Violet grumbles. Trixie laughs and leans in to kiss him on the cheek.

“See you, bitch.” Trixie leaves for the elevator down the hall and Violet watches him until he turns the corner. Violet then continues his trek back to his room, calculating how many hours of sleep he can get before he has to get ready to leave.

—

After the incident, Trixie and Violet haven’t given much thought to the night they shared together, chalking it up as another weird incident in the string of bizarre events that is a drag queen’s life. Stranger things have happened. And of the sexual encounters they’ve had, this one wasn’t half bad. It was pretty good, in fact, a lot better than they imagined. Their relationship with each other hasn’t changed, however, rarely communicating aside from the occasional interaction on social media. Weeks pass and Trixie and Violet have all but forgotten about that night. It wasn’t until a month later that Trixie and Violet see each other again. It was on a Drag Race night in a club in LA, which means they’ve booked a few Ru girls along with usual array of local queens, hoping to get more traction in their scene.

Trixie and Violet have finished their number and are in the dressing room, waiting for the call to do the meet and greets. The club provided them with cocktails and both queens accepted them graciously, situating themselves on the couch in the dressing room with their legs tucked underneath them a la Untucked. They spend the first few minutes reenacting iconic incidents from the series before falling into an easy conversation teetering towards flirtation. Halfway through the drinks, Trixie realizes that they have been unconsciously closing the gap between them with every burst of laughter and the lingering of an innocent touch. The other queens weaving in and out of the dressing room eyes them with tepid suspicion and Trixie’s not sure if she has been noticing this, choosing ultimately to brush off the stares. Violet appears to be completely oblivious and swings her legs over Trixie’s lap.

“I think one of your balls is about to pop out,” Trixie comments, pretending to take a peek.

Violet slaps her shoulder lightly, “Nothing you haven’t put in your mouth before, bitch.”

“Don’t be gross,” Trixie answers, her screaming laughter echoing in the dressing room.

“Oh my god can’t you laugh like a normal person? You, your psycho scream is fucking— “

Violet is interrupted by a loud creak of the door. “Well well well, who do we have here?” Jinkx interrupts having just entered the room. She closes the door behind her slowly. “Why, isn’t it RuPaul’s Drag Race season 7 winner Violet Chachki,” she takes a small bow towards Violet then turns to Trixie, “… and All Stars 3 winner, I suppose?”

Trixie smiles meaningfully and shakes her head, not giving anything away.

“Aww, not even a tiny hint?” Jinkx pouts.

Trixie tilts her head slightly in mock-consideration, “Well…”

“Ahh! Don’t tell me,” Violet presses her hands over her ears, “No spoilers!”

“Sorry, Jinkx,” Trixie smiles at her apologetically, “you heard the lady.”

“Boo,” she answered, plopping herself down beside the pair on the couch. She pulls out a joint and a lighter from her bra which Trixie and Violet watches with wonderment. She winks at them before lighting the joint and taking a long drag from it. She offers it to them.

“No thank you,” Trixie declines.

Violet takes up the offer, however, and inhales deeply, looking straight at Trixie. She holds the smoke in for an extra moment before parting her lips slightly to let the smoke ascend on its own. Trixie doesn’t look away. Violet hands the blunt to Trixie who looks at it warily and sighs, takes a hit of her own.

Jinkx observes this interaction with great interest. When she’s handed back the joint, she holds it between her middle and index finger like a cigarette. “The youth… is wasted on the young,” she begins dramatically, “oh why must the universe inflict upon us such cruel ironies? When I see you two young, beautiful ladies,” she continues, turning to the pair, “flirting without consequence, the bubbling sexual tension not a premonition for troubles to come… oh to be young! If only this aging carafe can receive a taste of young flesh once more.” She lets the dramatic silence fall over all of them.

“Jinkx, you’re like two years older than me,” Trixie deadpans. Jinkx begins to stage-weep melodramatically. Violet looks at her, perplexed, Trixie tells her, “forget it, once she gets into character, we can’t do anything about it.”

“Time, the merciless mother of us all!” she starts again. “Only a kiss from the fountain of youth can bring these—”

“Jinkx.”

“—these wasted, decrepit, rickety bones— “

“Jinkx Monsoon.”

“—moldy, sagging, sinewy, discolored, putrid, decomposing—”

“Jinkx!”

“—only a— mmph”

Suddenly, Violet reaches over to grab Jinkx’ face and pulls her into a firm kiss.

“Oh my,” Jinkx reacts afterwards, she widens her eyes comically and covers her mouth with the tips of her fingers. She and Violet look at Trixie expectantly.

“Oh fuck it,” Trixie says then gives Jinkx a kiss too.

Jinkx burst into a maniacal cackle, “you fools!” Jinkx stands up and walks slowly around the room, “you’ve let me absorb your energy, I now have the power!”

Trixie and Violet roll their eyes, amused by Jinkx’s antics. They hear someone call them for the meet and greet and Trixie gets up to leave, she reaches out her hand to Violet she takes it. Jinkx is still in the middle of her spectacle and the two drag queens giggle at her as they exit the dressing room hand in hand.

The meet and greet is over soon enough and Trixie offers Violet a place to stay for the night. Both of them leave the club in full drag. Arriving at her apartment, Trixie heads straight to the shower, leaving Violet to pace awkwardly around her room. It isn’t a lot different from the other LA queens’ bedrooms, she notes, sparsely furnished, and still looking a little brand new. Various drag paraphernalia litters the room following a trail leading to what Violet guesses is a walk-in closet. The room also houses a few guitars and other unfamiliar folk instruments; on a table, sheets of papers are strewn with Trixie’s familiar handwriting. Violet makes an attempt to read them but the writing is even more illegible than before, but from what she can discern, Trixie is writing some new songs. The instruments along with the bright pink walls of the room makes Violet feel like she’s inside her Trixie brain, where both Trixie and Brian have learned to coexist.

Violet hears Trixie start singing in the shower.

“Work, work… mm… I am a professional, work…” she recognizes Shangela’s song and tries not to think too deeply if this counts as a spoiler. She walks towards the bathroom door and finds it unlocked. She lets herself in as Trixie switches to singing an unfamiliar folk song.

“Trixie,” she calls.

Trixie stops singing to respond, “Vi? Need anything?”

Violet doesn’t say anything, instead she removes the pink silk robe that Trixie lent her to cover up her usual burlesque drag. She has her own clothes but in the club Trixie and everyone else laughed at seeing her wear their robe because oh wow, baby pink does not suit you at all. You look like a grandma prostitute.Violet decided to humor them and kept it on. She hangs the robe on the hook then takes off her heels, stockings, corset, and the rest of her lingerie and lays it down carefully beside the sink. She pulls the shower curtain to the side and Trixie jumps in surprise, she was in the process of lathering her face with make-up remover.

“Jesus Christ. I’ve seen Psycho, Violet,” Trixie says then proceeds to rub her face.

“I’m not the one with the mug looking like a melting clown, bitch.”

Trixie lifts a middle finger to her and steps to the side, giving Violet space to climb in. Trixie turns on the shower to rinse her face. Violet borrows the make-up remover and starts working on her face.

“Fuck, bitch, are you trying to boil your skin off?” Violet comments at the temperature of the water. Trixie aims the showerhead at Violet and she squeals, cursing at Trixie who chuckles but turns the heat down. “Shit, I got some on my eye.” Violet reaches blindly for water and Trixie hands it to her so she can wash her face. Trixie eyes the water travelling on Violet’s body; from it splashing onto her face, sliding down to her chest, and falling between her legs. When Violet opens her eyes she sees Trixie, now completely make-up-free, looking at her with that same smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re so skinny,” he remarks.

“What?”

“Pretty and skinny.”

“What?”

“So pretty,” Trixie breathes.

Before he can say anything, Trixie pushes him against the wall and starts kissing him. Violet recoils against the cool tiles of the bathroom but pulls Trixie closer to him, responding hurriedly. He’s surprised at Trixie’s erection rubbing against his leg and it stimulates his own budding one. Trixie’s hands slide down from his neck, scratch his chest, and trace down his stomach. One wraps around Violet’s cock and begins tugging slightly, the other follows the shape of his ass and teases his asshole. Violet groans and pushes Trixie off. Trixie is horrified for a second, ready to race to an apology when Violet turns around and presses his ass against Trixie’s dick. Trixie feels a fire ignite in his gut, seeing Violet bent over in front of him, both hands on the wall to hold himself steady.

“Say it again,” Violet says tensely.

For a moment, Trixie is confused, but then a pleased grin slowly spreads on his face. He leans in to whisper, “you’re so skinny and you look so pretty.” He angles the tip of his penis against Violet’s entrance and hears Violet whimper. The sound sends pulses of pleasure to his erection. He gives himself a moment to be impressed by the animalistic desire that Violet Chachki’s whimpering ignites in him before leaning in again. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, pushing his cock inside.

—

Later that night, Violet, asleep on Trixie’s bed, stirs awake to the sound of a guitar being played. He squints and sees Trixie on the other side of the room hunched over the table, writing fervently with a guitar on his lap. He strums the guitar again.

“You ain’t quite the Barbie/ but you’re such a doll/ Should I spoil myself with sweets? / I’ve never had the gall / to be having this much fun/ am I allowed to jump the gun? —no,” Trixie stops abruptly and scratches on the paper, “not right,” he mumbles. He plays a different chord with the last line.

“Sounds better,” Violet remarks. Trixie flinches in surprise and turns around. Violet can see him blushing slightly at having been caught. “Are you writing a song about me?” he teases, half-asleep.

“Oh, uh…” Trixie stutters nervously. Violet smiles.

“Come here,” Violet instructs, yawning, “play me something.” Trixie carries his guitar over to the bed and sits cross-legged on the mattress. Violet turns to the side and watches Trixie. “You look butch.”

“Bitch,” Trixie replies automatically and plays a few test chords.

“No country, please.”

Trixie looks slightly offended. “But all my songs are country.”

Violet shrugs in response, “then play something that isn’t yours.”

Trixie huffs, “fine.” He pauses for a moment to think then starts plucking a few tabs on his guitar. Violet hums in approval. Trixie begins to sing.

“Spinning dreams with angel wings

Torn blue jeans, foolish grin

Burning down in the night

So cool, so right

Star power, star power

Star power over me

She knows how to make love to me

She knows how to make love…”

Violet begins to drift off to sleep, the soft guitar echoing in the room.

“Close my eyes and think of you

Everything is black and blue…”

Trixie’s voice is heavy, leaden with something Violet doesn’t pick up on. But it makes him dream a blur of visions—of blonde Russian acrobats, bleached white teeth, and cigarettes on red lips.

Tags - Trixie Mattel, Violet Chachki, Vixie, Trixya, light angst, foreboding fluff, non au, smut, pilandok

vStar Power Over Me - Part Two (Vixie/Trixya) - Pilandok