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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Undone, Chapter 13 (Bitney/Courtney x Fame) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 13 of UNDONE, our slow burn Bitney lesbian AU. Here’s a link to the previous chapters.

Summary: Bianca makes Courtney an epic gown for Halloween, then finally joins her for Sunday Funday at The Abbey, where things get a little too real…(And Miss Fame has a bonus cameo.)

Thank you so much to our lovely beta readers: @kitschypixel , @sheofthethrone , @jillybean2314 <3

TW: This story deals with themes of emotional abuse, and since that can be subtle, we’re going to keep a general TW on all of the chapters, even when it seems like it doesn’t apply.

***

It’s probably not the best idea for Bianca to make Courtney’s Halloween costume - not with the mountains of work she has on her plate for the show. Because of course, she can’t bring herself to slap together something cheap and passable. She has to obsess over the design, worry about every detail, agonize over the fit, torture herself to make sure the finishing touches are all perfect.

The direction had been both very vague and very detailed, in typical Courtney fashion. ‘Sasha came up with the theme this year, and all she said was “inspired by your hometown.” And like, Brisbane is not inspiring so I was thinking something Sydney-ish? Maybe use the Opera House design? It doesn’t have to be literal though. Have fun with it! My other plan was just gonna be to dress as a koala so honestly, whatever you do...’

And when she pulls the gown out of the garment bag, seeing the delighted look on Courtney’s face makes it all worth it. She helps her try it on, relieved to see that it fits like a glove. She’d used the Opera House architecture as a structural element on the black corset top and headpiece.

“Well? What do you think?” Bianca steps back, turning Courtney towards the mirror so that she can see the full costume.

Courtney looks in the mirror, mouth agape, and Bianca feels a surge of pride.

“This is like...I can’t believe I’m gonna waste it on Halloween. I want to wear it to the Met Ball.”

“Are you going to the Met Ball?!” Bianca gasps, and Courtney giggles, shaking her head.

“No, of course not.”

Bianca lets out a disappointed sigh.

“In what world am I famous enough to attend the Met Ball?” Courtney laughs.

“I dunno...you know people.”

“Yeah, maybe in another life,” Courtney says. “But a Halloween party at Rasputin will have to do for now.”

Bianca places the headpiece carefully into a box and then walks over to help her out of the gown.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Courtney asks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t do a party in the middle of the week right now,” Bianca says.

“Alright, well, everyone will be bummed. They keep asking when you’re gonna hang out again.”

“Next time,” Bianca says.

“You always say that,” Courtney replies with a slight chuckle.

Bianca zips the dress into the garment bag as Courtney pulls on her shirt. She takes a deep breath, her to do list weighing heavily on her mind.

“And I always mean it...cunt,” she deadpans.

Her snarkiness is met with a gleeful giggle, Courtney lunging forward and capturing her into a hug. She smiles, gazing up at Bianca with an expression that makes her want to claw the curtains down. Bianca clears her throat and steps away.

“So...yeah, I hope the dress is what you wanted.”

“Are you kidding? I’m gonna blow everyone away. Adore is going as a pregnant chola and Shea’s planning to wear a hot dog on her head or something. I think Pearl’s just planning to wear her sluttiest bathing suit? There’s no prize, but I’m gonna win anyway.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Courtney stands for a moment, wanting to linger but knowing better.

“I guess I should get out of your hair now, huh?” Courtney asks, cradling the garment bag like a baby

“Yeah, I have a ton of sewing to do. For like, my actual job.” A guilty look flashes across Courtney’s face, and Bianca quickly adds. “Not that I minded taking a break from all that. It was, uh, fun to have creative license.” She follows Courtney to the door, trying to stop the dogs from jumping all over her.

“Okay, well...thank you, again. It’s so beautiful. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that,” Bianca retorts with a smirk, leaning against the door frame. “Now get outta here.”

Courtney giggles and tosses an air kiss over her shoulder, and Bianca’s cheeks hurt from smiling as she closes the door, when a moment of mild panic flashes through her. “A ton of sewing” had perhaps been an understatement. She heads back inside, realizing that she’s about to have a hell-ride of a weekend playing catch-up.

She works for the rest of the day, only getting up from her work table to brew more coffee, ignoring the ache in her back, the way her vision occasionally starts to blur. She barely even notices the sun going down as she hunches over the sewing machine, having finished almost a full rack of alterations for next week’s shoot. She glances longingly at a bolt of velvet meant for one of the finale costumes she’s designing, promising herself for a break to start draping as soon as she’s done with Linda’s pants.

Jared pushes open the door, saying, “Hey stranger…”

“Hi, when did you get home?” Bianca barely looks up, not wanting to fuck up the seam.

Jared rolls his eyes. “Like three hours ago?”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I see that. It’s almost nine, aren’t you hungry?” Jared asks.

“God, yes,” Bianca sighs.

“So, then maybe you should take a break…”

Bianca takes her foot off the pedal and looks up gratefully.

“...and make us some dinner?” Jared smirks.

Bianca scoffs and goes back to her seam, muttering, “Ha ha, fuck you.”

Jared’s smug expression goes sour as he spits out, “That was a joke!” and slams the door behind him.

Bianca sighs, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before getting up to chase after him.

“Jared, wait…”

She finds him in the kitchen, opening drawers and then slamming them shut, looking for something he can’t seem to find.

“I’m sorry.”

“Where the fuck is the corkscrew?” he demands.

Bianca walks forward to retrieve it and hands it to him, trying to get him to look at her.

“I’m sorry, please. I know you were kidding but I’m just...I’m just stressed.”

“Whatever.” He opens a bottle of wine and starts to pour a glass, now looking more wounded than angry.

Bianca leans against the counter, asking softly, “You gonna pour some for me, too?”

He takes out a second glass and pours, looking at her with those hurt puppy eyes. When she reaches for the glass, he grabs her wrist and pulls her forward, burying his face in her hair.

“I just...I don’t understand,” he says. “You took all that time to make the costume for your friend, and now you’re mad at me because you’re stressed, and it’s not fucking fair.”

“You’re right.”

“I fucking miss you when it gets like this, and you know that, and so-”

“I know, I know,” Bianca wraps her arms around him. “I’m sorry. Let’s order some dinner.” She feels his body start to relax against hers and closes her eyes in relief.

***

With less than a week left in the season, Bianca has never felt more exhausted in her life. She’s been working over 18 hours a day to finish the costumes for the finale episode, and keep up with her normal workload. More, if she counts all the hours she’s put in at home.

She thought that today, at least, would bring a tiny bit of relief, and end to this seemingly endless election, one less thing to stress about. Instead, she’s in some kind of surreal dystopia - how the fuck could that man be president? It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking awful. She goes through her usual morning tasks, trying to gain some tiny semblance of normalcy. Hoping that the mundane, familiar checklist will soothe her frayed nerves.

The door bangs open, startling her out of her thoughts. Courtney stands at the top of the stairs, hair in a messy bun, eyes red. She looks like she’s been crying all night.

“Hey,” Bianca says, wishing there was something she could say to make it better.

Courtney nods, dropping her bag on the ground and walking towards Bianca, looking so small and lost that Bianca can’t help but wrap her into a hug. Courtney holds on tight and begins to cry, face buried in Bianca’s neck.

“I know,” Bianca whispers, her own eyes feeling misty.

“How did this happen?” Courtney sobs.

“I don’t know…” Bianca rocks her, trying not to think about how soft her hair feels against her cheek. How warm her breath is. Using a national tragedy as an excuse for affection...that’s a new low for her. She feels gross, and begins to loosen her grip.

Courtney pulls away, sniffling.

“Fuck.”

“Yep.”

She rubs her eyes, taking a shaky breath.

“I have to go to hair.”

“Right.” Bianca touches her cheek softly, brushing away a tear, unable to stop from letting her fingers linger just a split second too long. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah. Okay...Alright, I’m going.”

***

The wrap party was a welcome, much needed night for everyone to blow off some steam. But it’s possible that the combination of exhaustion and alcohol was not the best idea, because Bianca awakens on Saturday to one of the worst hangovers of her life, head pounding, stomach in turmoil.

She rolls over, wondering if she has the strength to get up and walk to the bathroom or if she should just vomit into the trash can by her bed. She notices that Jared’s left her some water and Alka-seltzer and feels a wave of gratitude along with her nausea.

It’s two hours later when she manages to sit up all the way, checking her phone, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when she sees the messages from Courtney.

COURTNEY: Happyyyyy Hiaaaaatus…

COURTNEY: (You’re alive, right?)

COURTNEY: (Please be alive)

BIANCA: Ughhhhhhh

BIANCA: What the fuck happened last night?

COURTNEY: Um, I think you were like, a TINY little bit blackout :)

BIANCA: You don’t say

BIANCA: Omg I’m never drinking again.

COURTNEY: Bummer. Cause I was gonna invite you to Sunday Funday at the Abbey tomorrow.

BIANCA: Sure

COURTNEY: REALLY??????

BIANCA: I promised you I’d come next time!

COURTNEY: I thought you were lying!!!

BIANCA: No, I was just slammed during the season. We’re on hiatus. Bring on the mimosas

COURTNEY: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

***

“B!” Courtney jumps up from her seat, racing over to the entrance to greet Bianca. Her eyes sweep over Bianca’s body, clad in a form-fitting sweater dress and tall boots, and she bites her lip, pulling her in for a tight hug.

“Hey,” Bianca says, a shiver running through her as Courtney takes her hand, leading her to their table.

“I honestly can’t believe you’re here,” she says, squeezing her fingers.

“I keep my promises,” Bianca replies, stomach doing a little somersault when Courtney tosses her a little smile.

When they’re almost at the table, Courtney leans in and murmurs, “I invited this cute couple I know so that you wouldn’t be the only straight person.”

“I’ve been to a gay bar before, Court,” says Bianca, rolling her eyes slightly.

“Ben! Jinkx! This is Bianca!”

“So now that your friend is here, are you gonna stop trying to steal my girlfriend?” Ben asks.

“Maybe,” Courtney says coyly, with a flutter of lashes.

“Hi, Bianca, nice to see you again.” Shea leans over to give her a hug.

“Yeah, you too. So what are we drinking?”

“Rum and fruit!” Sasha offers a sip of her mango mojito.

As they settle into their seats, Courtney fills Bianca in on their previous conversation, which was a dramatic retelling of the night that Ben and Jinkx met for the first time.

Courtney claims that she orchestrated the whole thing, “Giving Ben the benefit of my stellar game.”

Jinkx scoffs, chuckling. “Uh, sorry to break it to you, hon, but your game is as bad as his.”

“What?!” Courtney gasps.

“I could see them plotting from 3 tables away,” Jinkx explains.

“So, wait, why did you take me home?” Ben asks.

Jinkx casts a sideways look at him, head tilted, and shrugs. “You have a cute butt.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I have major game, okay? I was totally just fucking around,” Courtney insists.

“You have no game,” says Jinkx.

“I do so!”

“No. You don’t. You just have...all that.” Jinkx waves her hand around Courtney’s general vicinity.

“Charisma?” Courtney guesses with a flutter of lashes.

“No, sweetie. You’re hot. That’s your game. Being hot.”

“I am somehow...both deeply offend and totally flattered...” Courtney says, then looks over at Bianca, laughing into her drink. “Excuse me, what are you laughing at, ma’am?”

“I mean...she’s not wrong,” Bianca giggles.

“Oh, what do you know. I have game, alright? Maybe it just only works on lesbians.”

“Uh huh. That must be it,” Bianca deadpans.

“Hey losers,” pipes up a low voice, and Shea laughs.

“Hey Pearlie! Come sit. Thanks for joining...over an hour late.”

“It’s fucking Sunday, calm down,” Pearl says, settling into the booth. She nods hello to Jinkx and Ben, then does a double-take at Bianca. “Heyyy.”

“Back off, Pearl. She’s married,” Courtney says.

“When’s that ever stopped me?” Pearl asks, still leering at Bianca.

“And straight!”

“I repeat, when has that ever...Hiii, I’m Pearl, by the way.”

“Bianca.” Bianca lets Pearl take her hand, pretending not to notice Courtney’s clear irritation beside her. A tiny thrill ripples through her and she tosses her hair, flashing her dimples at the sleepy-eyed blonde. She doesn’t actually care about Pearl, but after months of seething silently while Courtney flirts with everyone around them, it’s a little fun to give her a taste of her own medicine.

The server appears just then with a tray of drinks, and Courtney sighs, immediately ordering another round before taking a sip.

“I thought you were a lightweight,” Bianca says.

“Yeah, well...Sunday Funday,” Courtney answers, toasting her with a flutter of lashes.

The drinks take effect quickly. By the time they finish their food, Courtney’s flirting even more impetuously than usual. Bianca can’t help but encourage her, dimples deepening at every teasing comment, biting her lip at every light touch.

Eventually, they all head to the dance floor, and though dancing is not high on Bianca’s list of preferred activities, she’s not prepared to turn down more opportunities to brush against Courtney in the crowd. Courtney barely breaks eye contact with her, even while being constantly interrupted by people who seem to know her - a bombshell redhead with gorgeous tattoos, a beautiful girl with legs for days that Bianca thinks she recognizes from the Rockwell, a go-go dancer on a pole trying valiantly to get her attention.

As they head up the steps for their next round, Courtney waves back to a woman on the opposite side of the bar, and Bianca shakes her head.

“How do you know everyone here?” Bianca wonders.

“‘Cause she’s a slut,” Shea offers, earning a light punch on the shoulder from her girlfriend.

“That is not how I would put it,” Sasha says, but Courtney shrugs.

“Eh, it’s fine. If the shoe fits…”

“Attagirl!” Shea laughs, sliding shots over to both of them.

Courtney raises her glass and Bianca follows.

“What are we toasting?”

“Ummm…” Courtney holds her gaze, head tilted, lips parted. “To keeping our promises.”

“Cheers,” Bianca answers simply, allowing Courtney to pull her back down the steps.

The dance floor slowly becomes more crowded, space between them shrinking to make room for more bodies. Temperature creeping up. Bianca’s cheeks burn as someone passes behind her, pressing her against Courtney, who gives her a slow, sexy grin.

Bianca swallows, the fluttery feeling in her belly being overtaken by a burning ache as Courtney’s hands brush against her hips. For a moment, it’s like she’s having an out of body experience, watching herself, alcohol buzzing through her veins, balance slightly off, leaning forward. She imagines what it would be like to close the short distance between them, to feel Courtney’s lips on hers, to press her against the DJ booth and tangle her hands in that soft blonde hair.

Courtney’s teasing smile fades for a second, looking at Bianca with so much intensity, so much expectation, that it causes Bianca’s heart to pound. Bianca inches closer still, feeling compelled by forces beyond her control.

And then it’s all over. Bianca’s eyes widen in alarm, realizing what she was about to do, booze-addled mind getting crystal clear for a second as she takes a step backwards.

“B…” Courtney begins, guilt rushing in, engulfing her like a tsunami.

Bianca merely shakes her head, stammering out a rushed apology, and bolts from the dance floor, swallowed up by the crowd so quickly that Courtney can’t possibly follow. Once outside, she leans against a concrete pillar, breathing heavily in the chilly evening air, self-loathing pushing all other thoughts out of the way - including the awful nagging feeling that makes her wish that she’d acted upon her desires.

Back on the dance floor, Courtney gulps, that hollow ache in her chest making her wince. Why does she always push things too far? Why can’t she just accept reality as it is, instead of trying to bend it to her selfish will?

She slinks onto the patio, spotting Fame at a cocktail table. Courtney grabs two half-empty glasses from a table beside her and sucks them down quickly.

“Classy,” Fame comments, chuckling.

“Don’t judge me,” Courtney snaps, finding anger easier to express than the turmoil and guilt swirling in her chest.

“I’m not.” Fame holds up her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Courtney sighs, deflating as fast as a popped balloon, head on her arms. “It’s been...a weird day.”

“Hmm. Where’s your friend?”

“What friend?” Courtney tries to feign innocence, eyes wide.

Smirking now, Fame takes a sip of her own cocktail and signals to the waiter.

“Hi,” she coos. “Two more double tequilas, please.”

“I don’t know if that’s-” Courtney begins to protest, but stops talking as Fame slides her own drink across the table.

“Come on, baby. Let’s turn the night around.”

Forty minutes later, Courtney finds herself so drunk that she can barely stand, cheeks stained with tears from weepy self-pity, crammed into a stall in the ladies’ room as Fame’s fingers slide into her panties.

All she wants is to feel something, something other than this endless cycle of hope and rejection and guilt. She wants, she needs, to feel something good, even if it’s bullshit - even just for a second.

“Ugh, I can’t believe we’re doing this in here. It’s so trashy,” she moans, arching into Fame’s fingers, digging her nails into her shoulder.

“I know, we’re the worst,” Fame says, biting her neck. One hand braces her hip against the wall as she fucks her, sucking a row of angry marks along her collarbone.

Courtney comes hard and quick, so much tension leaving her body that she nearly slides to the floor. Fame catches her, laughing.

“Feel better?”

“Um...” Courtney pants, leaning on her shoulder for support, ignoring the ‘no’ echoing in her head, the self-loathing that never left, that may actually be worse now that it was before, and says, “Yeah. Thanks.”

***

Avoiding Courtney has been easier than Bianca thought it would be.

First of all, there were the holidays. Thanksgiving with her family in New Orleans, where things got fairly dicey when she got hammered on red wine and spent hours stalking Courtney on social media. Jared was clueless as usual, but her sisters? Not so much. Vanessa goaded her into spilling way too much, and in the morning, that sick, sick feeling was back. So she did what she always did. Pushed her feelings down and denied everything.

And then in December, Courtney was in Toronto shooting a Lifetime movie, and by the time she got back to town, Bianca was already in St. Barts, coping as best she could with Jared’s family. Every time his mother interrogated her about her fertility (or lack thereof), she dealt with it by posting another generic Caribbean beach photo or close-up of a flower. To the point where Courtney posted a teasing comment, asking her if she was working for a stock footage company. Bianca hadn’t been able to help herself, replying quickly. No chill whatsoever.

Bianca Del Rio: Shady

Courtney Hamilton: I miss your face. Post your FACE!

Her next photo was a selfie, face catching the orange glow of the setting sun. With the caption, ‘There. Happy?’

Courtney’s reply, a row of heart eyes, was nearly immediate. Bianca still remembers the mild elation of getting into a public exchange with her. It felt dangerously good, but reinforced the reason Bianca was trying so hard to hard to limit their interactions.

Once she was back in town, she spent a few weeks coming up with excuses to turn down every invite, and by the end of January, her resolve was gone.

The Women’s March seemed like a benign occasion for catching up. In broad daylight, with a big group of Courtney’s friends and hundreds of thousands of other people...that would be safe, right? So Bianca had agreed to come, making it clear that she would not be wearing one of those hideous pink hats.

She paces around in front of the coffee shop where they’re going to meet, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.

She is, of course, excited to see Courtney again. That ever-pervading fluttery feeling she gets whenever they‘re together. The joy she feels making her laugh, the way her smile seems to shine just a little bit brighter for Bianca than for anyone else. But then, on the other hand, there’s also the unresolved tension from the last time - Bianca fleeing in the middle of a song, knowing that if she stayed, it would have turned into something she was altogether unprepared for.

Maybe it’s selfish. Trying to hold onto the parts of their relationship that make her feel good while ignoring the parts that fill her with guilt. She knows, deep down, that the smart thing to do would be to stop socializing, keep things light and professional and force herself to move on from this perverted little fantasy.

And it’s been so long. She optimistically wonders if maybe, perhaps, her confusing feelings will have dissipated. Maybe this time, she’ll see her and feel only friendship. Camaraderie. After all, today is supposed to be about empowerment, right? She takes a deep breath and goes inside.

But the second Courtney looks up at her, Bianca’s chest fills with both excitement and dread. Courtney races toward her, wrapping her into a hug that’s too tight, too long, too deliciously warm, but Bianca doesn’t resist.

All things considered, it’s an inspiring day, and Bianca loves seeing Courtney so enthusiastic. She finds herself glancing over at her more and more frequently during the speeches, enamored by her passion, her exuberance, her cheeks flushed pink in the chilly air.

Later that night, when Bianca is back home, when the excitement has faded, she leans against her kitchen counter and drains glass after glass of pinot noir. As the TV drones in the next room, she clutches her glass, wishing that she could be satisfied with what she has, instead of aching for something impossibly out of reach. The memory of Courtney’s dazzling smile, which filled her with joy mere hours earlier, now feels like a knife in her gut.

“B! Get in here! You’re missing the best part!”

“Coming!” Bianca calls to Jared, downing the last gulp of wine in her glass. She finds Jared sprawled on the couch, oblivious, and sits down beside him.

“There you are.” Jared pulls her closer, kissing her neck, and Bianca squirms away. Her thoughts right now are too confusing, too overwhelming, to let him touch her. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I just…” Bianca trails off, unable to explain.

“Come on, B, you’ve been gone all day. Didn’t you miss me?”

Bianca swallows, guilt blooming in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Yeah, of course.” Bianca leans against him, no longer resisting.

“It’s almost Game Day, isn’t it?”

Bianca rubs her eyes, letting out a dry chuckle.

“Um, maybe, I’m not…”

Jared laughs, pushing her onto her back.

“You’re wasted,” he says, a glint in his eye.

“No, I’m just, uh...it was a long day. I had a little wine.” Bianca sighs, eyes falling closed.

“Well, don’t worry, baby, I’ll do all the work...”

She considers resisting for a moment, shoulders tense as he pulls off her PJ bottoms, but then imagines the fight that would inevitably follow, the explanations she doesn’t have, the words she can’t say out loud. She sighs slightly, trying to relax.

“You like it when I take charge, huh?” Jared murmurs against her neck, sinking his teeth into her skin, laughing a little at her whimper in response. “See? Sometimes you can let me be the boss.”

“Jared-”

“What?” His voice is sharp, challenging. His eyes bore into hers, making her heart pound with fear.

She forces a laugh, shaking her head.

“Nothing. Keep...keep going.”

A smile spreads slowly across his face as he grips her hips tightly.

“Thought so.”

***

Courtney takes Bianca’s face in her hands, a thumb brushing softly over her lips. She’s in no rush, wants simply to savor the moment, the feel of her skin, the weight of her body pressing down.

She moves closer, feeling warm breath on her face, lips millimeters apart. She can tell when Bianca smiles just from the feeling of dimples against her fingers, and opens her eyes, pulling back a little to look into her eyes.

Seeing her smile, she feels lit up from within. She gazes at her beautiful face for as long as possible, as long as she can stand being this close without kissing her properly.

When their lips meet, it’s gentle at first, teasing. She relishes the taste of Bianca’s lips, arching up against her as the kiss deepens, hands tightening in her hair. It isn’t long before they are both breathless, panting. As Bianca grinds down against Courtney on the bed, she layers kisses down her jaw, nibbling at her neck. Courtney lets out a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan, making Bianca suck harder on her tender skin.

Courtney inhales sharply as Bianca’s hand drifts down, stroking her slowly, toying with her until she’s dripping wet and begging for mercy.

And then Bianca lifts her head for a second, gazing down at Courtney, blue eyes dreamy with lust. Her fingers are moving faster now, firm and insistent. Courtney continues to arch up against her, moaning softly as she comes.

She pulls Bianca’s face down again, lips grazing her ear as she whispers, “I love you...”

Courtney’s eyes flutter open, and she groans slightly to herself, shutting off the vibrator and placing it on the edge of the bathtub. Detailed sexual fantasies are not new for her, but gooey romantic feelings certainly are.

She sinks down deeper into the water, filled with shame.

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