Chapter Text
Brooke lifted his leg, putting his knee down on the lid of the plastic trunk he was trying to close.
“You better not get sent home first,” Brooke chuckled, biting off a piece of duct tape with his teeth. “Because there’s no way you’re getting this repacked on your own.” Brooke took the tape, putting it over the lid of the trunk, forcing it shut.
“Bitch don’t you put that juju out here!”
Brooke looked over his shoulder, to where Vanjie was sitting on the floor. Vanjie was packing his makeup, filling the last of the bins right up, his underarm filled with lines from the eyeliners, lipsticks and contour sticks that he had double tested. They had gone shopping, Brooke starting the car to drive them around L.A, making sure Vanjie had every single product he could possibly need, no matter if it came from the costume shop, Ulta or Sephora, picking up the last minute things like extra stockings and hairspray.
“You’ll do fine.”
Vanjie’s side of the drag room was practically empty, Brooke vacuum sealing all of Vanjie’s costumes, ironing them out before he packed them in clearly labeled plastic bags, Executive Realness, White Runway, Trailer Park Couture and Pop Princess among the few that Vanjie had been told by production that he needed to prepare.
“I ain’t ever been this prepared for anything in my life.” Vanjie put the lid on the bin he had been sitting by, the last of his three “suitcases” used for miscellaneous items. “Feels all kinda fucked up.”
“The attitude of a winner.”
‘Brooke hadn’t told Vanjie Nina was participating, hadn’t told Nina that Vanjie would be there, but it hadn’t felt like his place, hadn’t felt like his thing to share, but he hoped that they would find comfort in each other, that Vanjie could keep Nina out of her head, and that Nina could ground Vanjie when he needed it.
“That’s the last of it.”
Brooke stood up, the bin he had been sitting on thankfully not exploding, his tape job hopefully holding it in for the next 24 hours until everyone got to actually go into the workroom.
Since they lived in L.A, Vanjie didn’t have as long of a commute as many of his sisters, the studio only about an hour away not counting traffic. Brooke was almost happy they were going to take Vanjie’s phone, happy that he had no idea what hotel he was checking into, since he wasn’t sure he could actually keep himself from driving by if he had any idea. Even though Brooke wasn’t the one going back into the workroom, he still felt excited, his body bubbling with anticipation and even a little bit of sadness at the thought that he would hopefully not see Vanjie for six weeks.
“Fuck…” Vanjie stood up too, looking around. His boy suitcases were packed by the door, Brooke sneaking a few books into the bottom of it. Vanjie hadn’t asked for them, but Brooke remembered how mind numbingly boring the long weekends when production needed time off had been, and if there was one thing Vanjie wasn’t, it was patient. The weeks from when they had returned from Werq the World had gone frighteningly fast, the filming of the season 12 finale and Drag Con eating the crunch time at the speed of light.
“Can’t believe I gotta leave already.”
The UberX was coming in a little over an hour, picking Vanjie up and taking him to the studio, and then, that was it.
“I can’t believe it either.”
Vanjie walked over, wrapping his arms around him, burrowing his face in his chest, and Brooke laughed, kissing Vanjie’s hair. Getting his boyfriend to sleep the night before had been a nightmare, Vanjie pretending so fiercely that he was calm, that he wasn’t worried, Brooke fucking him into the mattress, making him come three times before sleep finally took Vanjie.
“Imma miss you.” The words were mumbled, Brooke feeling them against his chest more than he heard the actual words.
“Imma miss you too.” Brooke mimicked Vanjie’s words, making his boyfriend snort, but Brooke only tightened his grip. “You’re acting like you’re going to war.”
“Bitch I am. Drag war. Front of the line, ready to get shot.”
Brooke laughed, his heart aching a little for how much he already missed how absolutely ridiculous Vanjie was.
“You’ll come back home. I promise.”
“I better.” Vanjie sighed, tightening his grip on Brooke’s t-shirt, his fists digging into Brooke’s back. “But not too soon.”