FIC: Shiny Happy People, or Three's a Crowd (MK Olsen/Hilary Duff)
Title: Shiny Happy People or Three's a Crowd
Pairing: Mary Kate Olsen/Hilary Duff, mentions of Mary Kate/Ashley Olsen
Rating: Hard R, maybe NC-17
Dedication: For my lovely Kate - who I corrupted into loving this just as much as I do, if not more.
Warnings: Mentions of incest. Issues of consent. If either of those things will offend you, please don't read it.
Disclaimer: This never happened outside of my imagination.
Summary: It had been three nights since she'd pushed Mary Kate away when she crawled between her legs and Mary Kate had been so pissed off about it. Well, mainly about Ashley's almost bitter sentence, sliding out so close that it brushed against her lips, which tasted of Ashley anyway and the irony wasn't lost on her that Ashley was slick and wet and hot as she told her - 'This is sick, Mary Kate, and we can't do this anymore.'
She's sitting by the exit backstage when Hilary comes offstage - sweaty and hot and ridiculously high as she laughs to one of her people that she can practically feel the adulation dripping through her skin whenever she turns and dances or waves at the audience. It doesn't seem arrogant when she says it, and that strikes Mary Kate as particularly odd, as the one time she said something similar (as an aside to Ashley when they were accosted by fans at some McDonald's) it was splashed all over the teen papers and she had to confront her face, always unflattering shots of it, with headlines and letters bitching about how stuck up she was.
Hilary catches sight of her and stops short. Leans towards her almost hesitantly - takes in the primly crossed legs and the hand twisting her pearls as if they're rosary beads or something - and asks if she's okay? Mary Kate gets up at that, slowly, and extends her hand to her before telling her 'I'm a fan. Thought I'd check your show out. See what it's like to be a teen singing sensation.' When she laughs it's hollow-ish, and sticks in her throat so she coughs a little and tries not to notice how when Hilary takes her hand she feels suddenly fragile and bowed, small and skinny and she doesn't like it. So different to how she normally revels in being the tiny one - inwardly grinning every time someone remarked how she was losing SO much weight and really... her clothes were just hanging off her! Hilary's body is more curved and she makes Mary Kate feel under-developed and barely pubescent - knows it's odd to be thinking that so slides her eyes sideways and looks up and grins - hoping it seems unaffected but she doubts it. She never was that good at acting, after all. Or lately she seems not to be anyway.
--
'I've lost my groove' she had announced to Ashley, in that strangely self-obsessed voice she's taken to using around her twin 'And I want it back.'
Ashley had looked up from her perusal of Vogue and asked her what 'the FUCK' she thought she could do about it, and what 'the FUCK' she meant anyway.
It had been three nights since she'd pushed Mary Kate away when she crawled between her legs and Mary Kate had been so pissed off about it. Well, mainly about Ashley's almost bitter sentence, sliding out so close that it brushed against her lips, which tasted of Ashley anyway and the irony wasn't lost on her that Ashley was slick and wet and hot as she told her - 'This is sick, Mary Kate, and we can't do this anymore.'
Mary Kate had been off colour since then, wilting, almost, and her bones, which always protruded anyway, seemed more fragile than ever. Ashley almost wanted to snap them. Instead she ignored her and what had happened, but Mary Kate's sudden announcement pissed her off so much that she lost it. Screamed at Mary Kate, who didn't even have the decency to look scared, and kicked her out. Eight o'clock on a Friday night and she had nowhere to go.
Until she saw the Hilary Duff gig and wangled her way in with that Olsen twin fresh faced charm that stuck to her like glue, even when inwardly she was burning up with intense rage at Ashley and her sudden prim and proper behaviour, sullying what went on between them and tinging it all with a sick, bile colour, whereas before it had been an almost holy ritual. Pure. Innocent. Sisterly, comforting, stable and Ashley had taken that away and left her adrift in a world she couldn't make sense of alone. Just, looking for a way out of her head.
--
Mary Kate can see some girl taking a picture of them talking, holding her phone up surreptitiously to capture the shot, and she can't help but giggle.
'We're hot property you know, and, really, I always seem to have to be part of a pair to sell papers...'
Hilary half smiles at her and asks if she wants to go for coffee, or back to her dressing room to talk.
'I mean, if you want... it'd be cool. Swap secrets on being young and hot and famous!' There's no trace of irony in her tone and Mary Kate likes that - likes that she's not Ashley with her serious business plans and laborious note taking on things that interest her - likes that she squeals and grins and wears tight leather pants and flicks her hair. She's almost wholesome but not quite - take away her fame and she'd be just some average spoilt girl who doesn't fuck around because she wants respect, but gives sloppy blowjobs at parties she's too young to go to, off her face on alcohol.
'Your dressing room sounds good. To be honest, I get a bit pissy about being photographed all the time, privacy can be really nice, you know?'
'Of course!' bubbly and over-bright so Mary Kate suddenly wants to yank her hair and see if her mask slips. Or if it's no mask at all.
They walk off together, close and confidential and the girl with her camera-phone is talking animatedly to someone and Mary Kate can't hear what she's saying but suddenly feels sick and claustrophobic. Air too shiny and inside she just feels dull. She wants her sister, she thinks, suddenly, and it feels traitorous to be imagining her right now so she stares fixedly at Hilary's glossy, glowing hair, and nods and smiles as she babbles about the gig and her TV show and how she's SUCH a fan of MaryKateandAshley's work.
Mary Kate hears their names as if they're one word, has done for a long time now, and it's enough to give anyone a complex, she thinks, all twins feel like this, she's not even special in that she feels like she's losing her identity. She used to try and embrace it, feeling as if trying to escape it was futile, push her fingers inside her sister as if she could almost blur them into one - if that's what the press and fans were going to do, she could try and beat them at their own game.
Zones back in to Hilary's conversation in time for her not to stumble as she walks into the dressing room. It's so... girly. Wholesome. Shiny. There's that word again and she fears she's overusing it but it certainly seems appropriate for Hilary, her hair, her room, her whatever. Sits cross legged on the floor and tugs her hair through her fingers like she always does when she's nervous, although she's not sure why she should be nervous with this gauche, overconfident girl, far less used to fame and life than she is.
'Why are you here? I mean, I didn't know you'd want to meet me or anything because we've barely spoken before, and, like, the show is okay and fun but I'm hardly a musical giant and if it's publicity you'd have come in the other way and... um, done something different to your hair, I guess.'
Mary Kate winces as she feels a knot and then looks up to meet Hilary's eyes. Not dark and bruised like her own but wide and yes, fuck it, shiny.
'I got into a fight with Ashley. She kicked me out. I came here.'
Hilary looks shocked and briefly, incongruously, Mary Kate thinks, looks up at the sky as if asking God to forgive Mary Kate for such blasphemy as suggesting that she and her twin fight.
'Oh, wow, you fight? You always look so together you know? But I guess you must piss each other off sometimes, right? I mean, everyone does and stuff but I didn't realise you guys did, though that's stupid I guess. You're only human.'
Looks almost questioning as she says the last bit as if expecting Mary Kate to stand up and smite her - 'Only human! How ridiculous. We are Gods, you and me.'
All she does is carry on tugging her hair through her fingers. The silence fills the room and Hilary, unaware apparently, of when you should just stop talking punctures it.
'What did you fight about? I don't mean to be rude but it's just, you fight, you know, and I never thought about it and it's probably something mundane but, y'know, I won't tell.'
Mary Kate fixes her with a look of utter blankness in reply. Words almost won't come but a sudden spiteful stab strikes her, sharp in the stomach like a punch, so when they do come they're almost accompanied with a gasp, although that could just be Hilary reacting in shock.
'We used to fuck. She wanted to stop and I didn't.'
--
Mary Kate almost feels a touch of regret as she uses the word 'fuck' to describe what they did, almost wants to put her hand on Hilary's wrist and tell her, quite earnestly, that they didn't fuck, they never fucked, they just made love and played games and girls would be girls and there was nothing seedy or uncomfortable about it, not like when Mary Kate's first boyfriend asked them to kiss when they were drunk and they almost did but Ashley started crying and they made him leave and never mentioned it again. After that it was never like that, although sometimes when she was close to coming Ashley's tears would mingle with her sweat and Mary Kate would lick them up and tell her that it was going to be okay, she would make sure that she was okay, and when she came Mary Kate would hold her together, worried that if she let go she would simply fall apart.
--
'You're kidding right?' Hilary's eyes are even wider now and she's searching Mary Kate's face for a sign that she's joking, and when finding none, looking repelled but strangely intrigued, rubbing her arms as if suddenly cold, pushing away phantom images of the two girls intertwined too closely to ever be sisterly.
'No. Nightly, sometimes twice a night, sometimes more, and GOD you should have heard her moan and beg for it. But she's too pure for me now, you know? Sucked me dry and moved on and look at me - 19 years old and already hollow and bitter. You think we're so alike but we're not - you're so... bright. Happy. Contented. And I'm fucking not, and I never fucking have been.'
'God, that's gross. You did... that?' Gestures in the air in a vague way and Mary Kate's suddenly struck by how young she looks, sitting there, shiny and bright with her glossy hair and photos of her with her family and friends tacked up all over her mirror as Mary-Kate spills her guts like she's her fucking therapist or something. Leans in and kisses her, smiling inwardly as she goes soft and pliant against her, sliding her tongue into her mouth and licking her bottom lip, before pulling away, breath brushing at Hilary's mouth which feels softer even than Ashley's.
'It's not gross. It never was gross.' Wriggles her hand until it's down Hilary's pants and pushes her fingers inside her underwear. Swallows Hilary's groans as she kisses her again and rubs her clit fast until Hilary bucks up against her, harshly rubbing against her fingers to get as much friction as possible until she lolls her head back against the wall and comes with a moan. Sluttish in repose, like a thousand high school girls who say one thing and do another, who are straight for a while until something better comes along, who claim it's sick and wrong whilst their hips buck against yours and their tongue traces a lie down your neck.
'See, there's nothing unnatural about it.' Pulls her hand out from Hilary's pants and stands, shaking, looking down at the girl slumped against the wall with her eyes half closed and her breath still coming so quickly.
'There's no point telling anyone you know - they'd never believe you.' And wiping her hand down her skirt she flicks her hair away from her eyes before awkwardly seeking some sort of response from Hilary.
'See you around.' The words seem inadequate, and she feels just like the high school jocks at her school who'd leave straight after, except at least what she did was selfless, mainly, asking for nothing back, hoping for nothing back. Someone touching her right now would probably be more than she can bear. She opens the door and walks out, through all the throngs of people, knowing that she's not alone, will never be alone whilst she's part of MaryKateandAshley, that they're always meant to end up together and stay together and that Ashley's wrong to deny this. Mary Kate knows what they are, who they are, and that's more important than knowing what she is, or who she is, right now.
Steps out of the door, and straight into the bright lights of the city, trying to find a way home.
--end
Feedback, as always, is much appreciated.
Pairing: Mary Kate Olsen/Hilary Duff, mentions of Mary Kate/Ashley Olsen
Rating: Hard R, maybe NC-17
Dedication: For my lovely Kate - who I corrupted into loving this just as much as I do, if not more.
Warnings: Mentions of incest. Issues of consent. If either of those things will offend you, please don't read it.
Disclaimer: This never happened outside of my imagination.
Summary: It had been three nights since she'd pushed Mary Kate away when she crawled between her legs and Mary Kate had been so pissed off about it. Well, mainly about Ashley's almost bitter sentence, sliding out so close that it brushed against her lips, which tasted of Ashley anyway and the irony wasn't lost on her that Ashley was slick and wet and hot as she told her - 'This is sick, Mary Kate, and we can't do this anymore.'
She's sitting by the exit backstage when Hilary comes offstage - sweaty and hot and ridiculously high as she laughs to one of her people that she can practically feel the adulation dripping through her skin whenever she turns and dances or waves at the audience. It doesn't seem arrogant when she says it, and that strikes Mary Kate as particularly odd, as the one time she said something similar (as an aside to Ashley when they were accosted by fans at some McDonald's) it was splashed all over the teen papers and she had to confront her face, always unflattering shots of it, with headlines and letters bitching about how stuck up she was.
Hilary catches sight of her and stops short. Leans towards her almost hesitantly - takes in the primly crossed legs and the hand twisting her pearls as if they're rosary beads or something - and asks if she's okay? Mary Kate gets up at that, slowly, and extends her hand to her before telling her 'I'm a fan. Thought I'd check your show out. See what it's like to be a teen singing sensation.' When she laughs it's hollow-ish, and sticks in her throat so she coughs a little and tries not to notice how when Hilary takes her hand she feels suddenly fragile and bowed, small and skinny and she doesn't like it. So different to how she normally revels in being the tiny one - inwardly grinning every time someone remarked how she was losing SO much weight and really... her clothes were just hanging off her! Hilary's body is more curved and she makes Mary Kate feel under-developed and barely pubescent - knows it's odd to be thinking that so slides her eyes sideways and looks up and grins - hoping it seems unaffected but she doubts it. She never was that good at acting, after all. Or lately she seems not to be anyway.
--
'I've lost my groove' she had announced to Ashley, in that strangely self-obsessed voice she's taken to using around her twin 'And I want it back.'
Ashley had looked up from her perusal of Vogue and asked her what 'the FUCK' she thought she could do about it, and what 'the FUCK' she meant anyway.
It had been three nights since she'd pushed Mary Kate away when she crawled between her legs and Mary Kate had been so pissed off about it. Well, mainly about Ashley's almost bitter sentence, sliding out so close that it brushed against her lips, which tasted of Ashley anyway and the irony wasn't lost on her that Ashley was slick and wet and hot as she told her - 'This is sick, Mary Kate, and we can't do this anymore.'
Mary Kate had been off colour since then, wilting, almost, and her bones, which always protruded anyway, seemed more fragile than ever. Ashley almost wanted to snap them. Instead she ignored her and what had happened, but Mary Kate's sudden announcement pissed her off so much that she lost it. Screamed at Mary Kate, who didn't even have the decency to look scared, and kicked her out. Eight o'clock on a Friday night and she had nowhere to go.
Until she saw the Hilary Duff gig and wangled her way in with that Olsen twin fresh faced charm that stuck to her like glue, even when inwardly she was burning up with intense rage at Ashley and her sudden prim and proper behaviour, sullying what went on between them and tinging it all with a sick, bile colour, whereas before it had been an almost holy ritual. Pure. Innocent. Sisterly, comforting, stable and Ashley had taken that away and left her adrift in a world she couldn't make sense of alone. Just, looking for a way out of her head.
--
Mary Kate can see some girl taking a picture of them talking, holding her phone up surreptitiously to capture the shot, and she can't help but giggle.
'We're hot property you know, and, really, I always seem to have to be part of a pair to sell papers...'
Hilary half smiles at her and asks if she wants to go for coffee, or back to her dressing room to talk.
'I mean, if you want... it'd be cool. Swap secrets on being young and hot and famous!' There's no trace of irony in her tone and Mary Kate likes that - likes that she's not Ashley with her serious business plans and laborious note taking on things that interest her - likes that she squeals and grins and wears tight leather pants and flicks her hair. She's almost wholesome but not quite - take away her fame and she'd be just some average spoilt girl who doesn't fuck around because she wants respect, but gives sloppy blowjobs at parties she's too young to go to, off her face on alcohol.
'Your dressing room sounds good. To be honest, I get a bit pissy about being photographed all the time, privacy can be really nice, you know?'
'Of course!' bubbly and over-bright so Mary Kate suddenly wants to yank her hair and see if her mask slips. Or if it's no mask at all.
They walk off together, close and confidential and the girl with her camera-phone is talking animatedly to someone and Mary Kate can't hear what she's saying but suddenly feels sick and claustrophobic. Air too shiny and inside she just feels dull. She wants her sister, she thinks, suddenly, and it feels traitorous to be imagining her right now so she stares fixedly at Hilary's glossy, glowing hair, and nods and smiles as she babbles about the gig and her TV show and how she's SUCH a fan of MaryKateandAshley's work.
Mary Kate hears their names as if they're one word, has done for a long time now, and it's enough to give anyone a complex, she thinks, all twins feel like this, she's not even special in that she feels like she's losing her identity. She used to try and embrace it, feeling as if trying to escape it was futile, push her fingers inside her sister as if she could almost blur them into one - if that's what the press and fans were going to do, she could try and beat them at their own game.
Zones back in to Hilary's conversation in time for her not to stumble as she walks into the dressing room. It's so... girly. Wholesome. Shiny. There's that word again and she fears she's overusing it but it certainly seems appropriate for Hilary, her hair, her room, her whatever. Sits cross legged on the floor and tugs her hair through her fingers like she always does when she's nervous, although she's not sure why she should be nervous with this gauche, overconfident girl, far less used to fame and life than she is.
'Why are you here? I mean, I didn't know you'd want to meet me or anything because we've barely spoken before, and, like, the show is okay and fun but I'm hardly a musical giant and if it's publicity you'd have come in the other way and... um, done something different to your hair, I guess.'
Mary Kate winces as she feels a knot and then looks up to meet Hilary's eyes. Not dark and bruised like her own but wide and yes, fuck it, shiny.
'I got into a fight with Ashley. She kicked me out. I came here.'
Hilary looks shocked and briefly, incongruously, Mary Kate thinks, looks up at the sky as if asking God to forgive Mary Kate for such blasphemy as suggesting that she and her twin fight.
'Oh, wow, you fight? You always look so together you know? But I guess you must piss each other off sometimes, right? I mean, everyone does and stuff but I didn't realise you guys did, though that's stupid I guess. You're only human.'
Looks almost questioning as she says the last bit as if expecting Mary Kate to stand up and smite her - 'Only human! How ridiculous. We are Gods, you and me.'
All she does is carry on tugging her hair through her fingers. The silence fills the room and Hilary, unaware apparently, of when you should just stop talking punctures it.
'What did you fight about? I don't mean to be rude but it's just, you fight, you know, and I never thought about it and it's probably something mundane but, y'know, I won't tell.'
Mary Kate fixes her with a look of utter blankness in reply. Words almost won't come but a sudden spiteful stab strikes her, sharp in the stomach like a punch, so when they do come they're almost accompanied with a gasp, although that could just be Hilary reacting in shock.
'We used to fuck. She wanted to stop and I didn't.'
--
Mary Kate almost feels a touch of regret as she uses the word 'fuck' to describe what they did, almost wants to put her hand on Hilary's wrist and tell her, quite earnestly, that they didn't fuck, they never fucked, they just made love and played games and girls would be girls and there was nothing seedy or uncomfortable about it, not like when Mary Kate's first boyfriend asked them to kiss when they were drunk and they almost did but Ashley started crying and they made him leave and never mentioned it again. After that it was never like that, although sometimes when she was close to coming Ashley's tears would mingle with her sweat and Mary Kate would lick them up and tell her that it was going to be okay, she would make sure that she was okay, and when she came Mary Kate would hold her together, worried that if she let go she would simply fall apart.
--
'You're kidding right?' Hilary's eyes are even wider now and she's searching Mary Kate's face for a sign that she's joking, and when finding none, looking repelled but strangely intrigued, rubbing her arms as if suddenly cold, pushing away phantom images of the two girls intertwined too closely to ever be sisterly.
'No. Nightly, sometimes twice a night, sometimes more, and GOD you should have heard her moan and beg for it. But she's too pure for me now, you know? Sucked me dry and moved on and look at me - 19 years old and already hollow and bitter. You think we're so alike but we're not - you're so... bright. Happy. Contented. And I'm fucking not, and I never fucking have been.'
'God, that's gross. You did... that?' Gestures in the air in a vague way and Mary Kate's suddenly struck by how young she looks, sitting there, shiny and bright with her glossy hair and photos of her with her family and friends tacked up all over her mirror as Mary-Kate spills her guts like she's her fucking therapist or something. Leans in and kisses her, smiling inwardly as she goes soft and pliant against her, sliding her tongue into her mouth and licking her bottom lip, before pulling away, breath brushing at Hilary's mouth which feels softer even than Ashley's.
'It's not gross. It never was gross.' Wriggles her hand until it's down Hilary's pants and pushes her fingers inside her underwear. Swallows Hilary's groans as she kisses her again and rubs her clit fast until Hilary bucks up against her, harshly rubbing against her fingers to get as much friction as possible until she lolls her head back against the wall and comes with a moan. Sluttish in repose, like a thousand high school girls who say one thing and do another, who are straight for a while until something better comes along, who claim it's sick and wrong whilst their hips buck against yours and their tongue traces a lie down your neck.
'See, there's nothing unnatural about it.' Pulls her hand out from Hilary's pants and stands, shaking, looking down at the girl slumped against the wall with her eyes half closed and her breath still coming so quickly.
'There's no point telling anyone you know - they'd never believe you.' And wiping her hand down her skirt she flicks her hair away from her eyes before awkwardly seeking some sort of response from Hilary.
'See you around.' The words seem inadequate, and she feels just like the high school jocks at her school who'd leave straight after, except at least what she did was selfless, mainly, asking for nothing back, hoping for nothing back. Someone touching her right now would probably be more than she can bear. She opens the door and walks out, through all the throngs of people, knowing that she's not alone, will never be alone whilst she's part of MaryKateandAshley, that they're always meant to end up together and stay together and that Ashley's wrong to deny this. Mary Kate knows what they are, who they are, and that's more important than knowing what she is, or who she is, right now.
Steps out of the door, and straight into the bright lights of the city, trying to find a way home.
--end
Feedback, as always, is much appreciated.