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    Summary

    Vi catches on instantly. Of course she does. There’s never been anyone who’s known her more than Vi, and there won’t ever be another.
    She quirks an eyebrow and Cait knows she’s done for.
    Testing the waters, Vi dips her thumb in tentatively, and Cait loosens her jaw to accommodate, letting it go slack and pliable. Her fingers are truly huge, none more than her thumb- she feels its size like she does when it’s circling her clit, and it sets off just as many sparks here when the pad presses her tongue.
    She tastes Vi, more Vi, only Vi, and her fingers flex in the tangled covers where she tries to work the excitement out of them. Somehow, she thinks touching Vi right now, getting her nails all over that sweaty back, would shatter this moment into shards of glass.
    “Cait,” Vi breathes, pupils blown wide and desperate, “Can I? My fingers?”

    When speech fails Caitlyn at another lavish gala, she finds comfort in knowing she and Vi don't need words, and never have.
    (Or: Cait uses her mouth, but not to talk.)

    Language:
    English
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