Chapter Text
It wasn't unusual for him to call, especially after being apart for a few days. Trixie always had one million things going on, so many jobs and gigs and parties and projects, that Katya didn't necessarily expect a call every day, because life is busy. But if he was being honest, he always hoped for a call, or at least a few texts. Especially on nights like these, when he'd come home from the studio after hours of working on costumes and had already worked out that morning. There was nothing left to do, really, except watch Dune for the hundredth time, but even that was starting to get old. Especially having to do it alone.
Katya picked up on the second ring, plopping down onto the couch. "Hey, mama."
"Hey." Trixie's voice sounded small, like he was a mile away from his phone.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
Katya heard a sniffle and knew he must just be talking softly, something truly unheard of during most of their conversations.
"What are you doing? What's going on?"
He heard Trixie sigh. "I guess...I guess I had a bad day."
Katya's brow furrowed, unsure of how to gauge this. "I'm sorry. Why was it bad?"
"Well..." There was some shuffling on the other end of the line, muffled voices in the background.
"Where are you?" Katya asked.
"The motel. I'm sitting outside by the pool. I had to get out of there for a minute."
"Sounds like it's been rough over there."
"You have no idea."
Katya heard Trixie take a deep breath. Rarely, if ever, would he call Katya for comfort. To complain, sure, because shit went wrong every day. But this felt different.
"Can you tell me about it?"
"I feel bad dumping this on you."
"Mama, did someone die? I think I'll be able to handle it, whatever it is."
He heard a small laugh from Trixie. "No one's dead. Yet."
"Then tell me."
"Like...I know I take on too much. You know?"
"I know."
"And I know this motel was a crazy fucking idea. Like, the craziest thing I could have done. I don't have time for it, but more importantly, I have no idea what I'm doing."
"I mean, that's why you have contractors and designers and David--"
"Yeah, but I really don't know what I'm doing. And I'm the face of this thing. I feel so fucking stupid when I'm in a room with all these people and I'll say something or ask a question and just get a bunch of looks, like they can't believe someone so dumb is getting to do this."
"Well, do you think that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you think you're too dumb for this? That you don't deserve it?"
"No...I mean, no."
"Me neither. It sounds like you have some strong-minded people who know they're good at what they do and don't ever want to be challenged on it."
"I guess."
There was a moment of silence. Katya cleared his throat.
"So what else?"
"What do you mean?"
"What's stressing you about this project? Is it more than feeling like you don't deserve it?"
"I don't know. It's been giving me this sinking feeling every day that I'm here."
"How long have you been feeling this way?"
"Honestly? Since we signed the papers to buy it."
"You really were not on board with this, were you?"
"That's the thing, I was." Trixie sniffled again. "I thought I was. It's such a cool idea. And why wouldn't I want something that will continue to make money even when I stop doing drag?"
"You can think it's a cool idea, but if you're only really seeing it as a safety net it would make sense why you're not feeling passionate about it."
"Mary, I want to make money off of everything I do. I'm not passionate about all of it."
"Sure, I know. But this was also something for you and David to do together, and maybe that's adding some stress. Like you don't want to let him down or something?"
Trixie didn't say anything. Katya couldn't hear any voices in the background anymore.
"Trix?"
He heard a deep exhale, then short breaths. "Trix, are you crying?"
It was a moment before he answered. "Why do I feel so shitty all the time lately? What is wrong with me?"
"Honey."
"No really, I have so many incredible things that I'm able to do and I can't even get through this one with a good attitude and David is working so hard, he's working so hard--"
Trixie was heaving now, and Katya was worried.
"Trixie, you need to breathe. Come on, babe. Take a breath."
He heard Trixie's shaky breaths on the other end of the line, slowly getting less erratic.
"Listen, do you want me to come there? I can stay somewhere nearby. Just for the night."
He thought he knew what Trixie would say--that he was fine, that it was a nice offer but everything would be okay in a couple hours and that he just needed some sleep.
Instead, Trixie whispered, "Can I come to your house?"
For a good ten minutes after they hung up the phone, Katya just stared at his living room, speechless. They'd been best friends for years, but hadn't really gone very deep after everything that happened a few years before. It was like all of those intense emotions towards each other had been channeled into saving their friendship, and after that they kept it light, at least as much as they could. It was an unspoken rule: complaining was fine, spending almost every day together working was fine, talking about new opportunities or jobs coming up was fine. But not this. Not big feelings and tears and second-guessing.
Not that Katya was upset about it--he just wanted to do it right.
He had about two and a half or three hours before Trixie would get there, maybe a little more. He didn't even know how Trixie was getting to his house, but figured Brandon would probably be pulled along for the ride. Katya spent the next couple of hours trying to clean up the best he could--putting new sheets on the bed (just in case he doesn't like the guest bed, he reasoned), throwing dishes in the dishwasher, picking up the hundreds of clothes littered throughout the house. He even thought about lighting a candle, if he'd had one. Instead he found a bottle of Febreze and started covering the entire house in a thin layer, room to room.
Eventually he heard a knock at the front door, and he immediately dropped the t-shirt he was using to dust off a particularly ignored shelf, cursing himself for not jumping in the shower before Trixie arrived.
He opened the door to a disheveled Trixie, small duffle bag in hand and backpack on. He looked so tired, but Katya couldn't help but smile.
"Welcome, scoundrel."
Trixie gave him a small smile, pulling his pink beanie down tighter on his head. "Thanks."
"No Brandon?"
"He went home."
"Hungry?"
"Bitch, can I just have a hug?"
The two found themselves on the couch, each in their own corner but their legs spread out towards each other, feet occasionally touching. Empty takeout boxes were strewn across the coffee table, and they had both settled into the comfort of each other's company as they watched an episode of reality TV that Trixie had already seen.
Katya's eyes began to close, the drone from the TV a backdrop to the intense sleep he was bound to have after a full day.
"Hey," came a voice, knocking Katya back into consciousness.
"Hey," he said, not fully opening his eyes.
"Pssst." Trixie nudged Katya's foot with his own. "Wake up, I'm still sad."
Katya opened his eyes. It took a moment for them to focus on the grinning face in front of him.
"You don't look sad."
"Well, I'm less sad. I had a good night."
Katya grinned, leaning his body forward and scooting closer to Trixie, arm draped along the back of the couch. "I'm glad."
"Thank you for letting me come over."
"Of course. It wasn't exactly your usual short commute."
Trixie looked away. "Yeah."
"Do you have to go back tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
Katya reached out to rest a hand on Trixie's thigh. "Do you really hate it?"
"Honestly, no," Trixie sighed, placing his hand over Katya's, rubbing circles into it with his thumb. "The filming part is pretty fun. Getting to be Trixie, having guests on. It's all the behind-the-scenes stuff that sucks. But it's only a couple more months. And I'm not even there the whole time, I'll be on tour."
Katya nodded. "I hope you're enjoying it, though. Because you'll probably have it forever."
"Yeah, but I won't have to be there forever. At least I hope not."
Katya squeezed Trixie's thigh lightly. "It sounds like you're feeling better."
Trixie nodded. "I am. Sorry I called you in such a panic."
"Why are you sorry?"
Trixie rolled his eyes. "Because I'm such a baby. I have these moments where I get so worked up about something and I try not to drag anyone into it. But I dragged you into it, and I feel bad."
Katya resisted the urge to make a "drag" joke. "You're allowed to ask for help, Trix. And reassurance."
Trixie looked away again. "Yeah, but that's a lot. I know that everything will be fine, you know? I have these moments of panic and I can get through them without worrying anybody else."
Katya felt an ache begin in his chest. "Trixie."
He was looking at the TV, trying not to cry. "Hm."
"Trixie. Brian."
It took a moment, but Trixie finally turned his head to face Katya, eyes teary.
"You know you're not a burden, right?"
Trixie closed his eyes, tears that had been threatening to fall coming down freely now. When he didn't say anything, Katya continued.
"I'm serious, Bri. You are so easy to love. And not because you're funny or pretty or talented, although all of those things are true. It's because you're...the best."
Katya shook his head, angry he couldn't find better words. Trixie opened his eyes and smiled softly.
"Thanks."
"No, I feel like you don't believe me."
Trixie smirked. "I do, I do."
"No, I..." Katya was on the verge of panic himself now, searching for the right thing to say that would convey just how much this person meant to him, not just in this moment but every single day. "You've gotta let me say this to you."
Trixie looked at him, eyes wider now. "Okay."
Katya took a deep breath. "Sorry, that sounded intense. I just want you to hear what I'm saying. Because we've been friends a long time."
Trixie nodded. "I know. I'm listening."
Katya nodded too. "Okay. Um...I just need you to know that you're good, Brian. You're so, so good."
Katya could feel himself getting fidgety, and Trixie grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together.
"And I guess I wish I could tell you that more. I wish that we were able to have these moments more often. Not that I want you to be sad or have panic attacks and have to drive three hours to eat takeout with me, but I just want us to be able to talk like this. I want to be able to tell you that you're amazing when you feel like you're not and I want to be able to tell you that I love you when you feel like you are unlovable. And I want you to know that, always. And I want you to know that you deserve the world."
They were both crying, but silently, Katya's words hanging in the air.
"You're really good to me, Brian." Trixie rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, the other hand still tightly hanging on to Katya's. "I'm not sure how I got so lucky to find my soulmate on a cross-dressing show."
Katya laughed, eyes blurred. "Me too."
Trixie leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on Katya's cheek. When he leaned back, Katya could see everything in his eyes--exhaustion, sadness, worry--but also relief.
"I think we should sleep," Katya said, pulling their clasped hands to his chest. "I changed the sheets for you. And Febrezed."
Trixie gasped, a goofy smile lighting up his face. "So that's what that strong fake flowers smell was."
"And what do fake flowers smell like, exactly?"
Trixie cackled. "I don't know. But better than your sweaty unwashed drag."
Katya got up, pulling Trixie with him towards the bedroom.
"That's what I was going for."