have been asked to explain the appeal of caseydovi at various points in time but truly what it boils down to is the fact that these are two very guarded people (dovi using geniality to lull people into thinking he has let them in but actually he’s keeping them at a careful distance to wait indefinitely in the hallway versus casey who won’t even let them through the metaphorical front door). and i think that when you put two people together who are that intensely guarded, who — with my rpf glasses on — also just truly like and trust each other so much, they create this beautiful little bubble of tenderness and unguardedness that no one else is privy too. it’s just very intimate and beautiful and sexy to me, to save a side of yourself for just one other person
Casey secret baby au but let's talk about the Casey and dovi fucking nasty no condom that got them there 😇
I personally think Casey should also be cheating on someone even though he's not a child bride in this scenario but still 100% certainty that it's dovi's once he gets an ultrasound oops
paging @telecommunikate for her takes too
I think kate and I agreed the ILLICIT TRYST occurs post assen podium and post casey public retirement announcement so in my mind it’s a very giggly and sloppy affair. casey is well aware of dovi’s reputation and how popular he is in the paddock. he has no illusions about the significance of this. casey is also, in my mind, privately going through a separation from his wife, and has not told anyone which adds to the pressure cooker of a scenario (he wants to let off some steammmmm) ……. he is still wearing his ring but has no wife but in the eyes of the law………. etc etc but also yeah, after that first ultrasound, he knows it’s dovi’s
bicameral caseydovi snippet that I haven’t decided what to do with yet:
Casey rubs his hands together, marvels idly at this strange alchemy — the warmth that can be generated by rubbing two cold things together.
Beside him, he’s aware of Dovi mirroring the gesture.
There’s a chill in the air, a bracing kind of cold, the kind that could strip paint from metal. He doesn’t need to see his reflection to know that his cheeks will be a blotchy red. There’s an abrasiveness to each lungful of icy air. Punishing. Casey moved to a country where he didn’t speak a lick of the language at the age of seventeen, he’s familiar with that feeling.
Dovi blows a puff of warm air on his hands.
“I’m two for two on relationships going down in flames,” Casey points out abruptly.
He can feel Dovi’s sideways glance, how it lingers as he studies Casey.
Eventually, Dovi shrugs, unfazed, “that just means that you’ll have to catch a break at some point, right?”
Casey’s laugh, short and sharp, escapes his chest like a puncture, “yeah I guess, that’s one way to look at it.”
His mouth is dry, it makes each inhale and exhale all the more punishing. He’s used to it now, after twenty odd years living here. The last few winters in Rome have all been harsh dry ones.
The lawyer handling his divorce had asked Casey if he wanted a copy of the papers in English, in addition to the Italian that it would be filed with the court in, it hadn’t even occurred to Casey to ask. Twenty years is a long time to call a place a temporary home. The suitcase he brought with him to Italy at seventeen years old is still under his bed, his ex-husband used to tease him about holding onto it even though the handle was loose and one of the wheels was broken.
But Casey has always been like that. His mother had cupped his cheeks with her chapped, work-rough hands on his wedding day, the exact same way she did when he only came up to her hip.
My little Casey, after all this time you still haven’t changed a bit, his mother had murmured softly, you move slowly until you don’t. Her palms were dry and cracked against his pink cheeks.
hi! since you posted those photos of casey, it had me wondering: where do casey and dovi go for their honeymoon? do they do something more lowkey after casey's first honeymoon? do they go somewhere warm? casey and dovi are on my mind always <3
Goddddd tbh idk if bicam caseydovi would necessarily get married. Dovi strikes me as not super into marriage and Casey’s been burned once already. Not that they’re not committed to each other!! They’re smitten in a ways that continues to sort of take them by surprise? Anyway, they’re in it for the long haul just not wedded (heh) to the idea of getting married as a necessary step
That said. I do think it’s still possible/likely that they would get married (if only because their parents would start Loudly and Pointedly asking about it and it’s easy enough to relent on this one thing — esp when Casey’s parents in particular guilt him about bring up how he’s living in Italy and soooo far away now) and if they did I reckon they would go somewhere quiet and private for their honeymoon. Casey vetoes Australia (he’s seen enough of his family for a little while after the wedding and visiting Australia inevitably turns into a family reunion tour). So on reflection, maybe they actually go to Japan, somewhere in the mountains. A really quiet private spa retreat. The expensive kind. Some skiing, some hiking, onsen every day until they’re pruney, yummy food, snuggling in bed. That just sounds so wonderful and so them, two people who are just really really content with each other’s company. Waking up together in that bright morning light, tangled up, grinning sleepily at each other like they’ve gotten away with something. And in a way they really did ❤️
Casey looks up from her battered copy of Meditations, “you’ve added too much flour to the roux,” she points out, matter of fact.
Vale was meant to be the one cooking tonight, had been crowing all week that her French onion soup would be the best thing they’d ever tasted. Better than all their mothers’ home cooking combined, better than liquid gold, and better than the finest pussy on the continent. Spectacular enough to lure even Casey into joining their longstanding Thursday night dinner, or so Vale had declared.
Casey had nevertheless declined the invitation. She claimed that the only reason she was here tonight was to return Dovi’s forgotten beanie.
Dovi dribbles some water into the pan from a mug in the hope that it will thin out the clumpy roux. The sleeves of her sweatshirt are distractedly pushed up so they don’t get in the way as she attacks the mixture with Vale’s bright orange whisk.
A second pot is cooking uncovered and unattended, filling the apartment with the rich sweetness of thinly sliced onions caramelising in butter. The onions might start sticking to the bottom of the pan soon but Dovi has other more pressing matters to attend to and anyway, sticking her head in the living room to ask Vale to check on her own fucking onions is the last thing Dovi wants to do right now.
In the background, Dovi can make out the sound of Marc and Vale yelling at each other. Considering the onions Vale dumped into the pot when they first started squabbling are now almost translucent and burnished golden brown, they’ve been going at it for a while. Judging from the pitch of their voices, Marc will start crying soon — which Dovi also suspects Marc will be annoyed about afterwards.
Dovi frowns, she’s whisking vigorously but the roux still looks like a lumpy uncooperative paste. There’s a rustle and then Casey materialises at her side, cool fingers rolling up the sleeve of Dovi’s sweatshirt where they had slid back down her forearm. The copy of Meditations sits abandoned on the kitchen bench.
Casey smells like jasmine and faint dregs of the cigarette she must have smoked in the street before buzzing the intercom.
“Are these the culinary skills that I have been led to believe have bewitched half our female cohort?” An amused half-smile tugs on Casey’s lips as she studies Dovi’s handiwork.
In Dovi’s defence, she has a pretty healthy awareness of her strengths and weaknesses, that’s one thing she likes to think she has going for herself. So on the nights when she finds herself entertaining houseguests, Dovi orders in.
And the next morning? Well, Dovi has it on reliable authority that she makes decent eggs.
“This is Vale’s recipe,” Dovi jerks her chin towards the crumpled sheet of paper covered in Vale’s loopy scrawl and wedged under a glass of wine.
Casey hums thoughtfully. There are bags under her eyes and Dovi hasn’t seen her outside of class for over a week. Vale had mentioned in passing that Casey’s parents are in town visiting from Australia, how she came into possession of that information is anyone’s guess. More importantly though, it begs the question why Casey is here peering over Dovi’s shoulder and hooking a finger through one of the belt loops of Dovi’s old jeans.
A bead of sweat trickles down the side of Dovi’s neck. Her arm is starting to get tired from the whisking.
“Do you think they’re going to run out of steam anytime soon?” Casey asks, lips twitching wryly.
Marc and Vale? “No,” Dovi snorts, “they probably wouldn’t even notice if we left and went to get dumplings instead.”
She uses the whisk to prod at the contents of the pan, her nose wrinkles, the situation is beginning to look unsalvageable.
Casey rests her head on Dovi’s shoulder, startling Dovi. She almost drops the whisk but recovers just in time. Casey must really be tired, Dovi thinks.
“Mm, that late night dim sum place? With the steamed prawn dumplings?”
Dovi hadn’t been thinking about any place in particular but finds herself nodding in agreement, “yeah, sure.”
“I could go for dumplings,” Casey admits wistfully, she darts Dovi a sideways glance, “and maybe some steamed rice rolls.”
Dovi grins crookedly, the steamed rice rolls are her favourite. Casey knows this. Casey is also not normally this unsubtle, it must have been a really long week. Dovi checks the clock on the wall, they could be there in fifteen minutes, settling into a booth and pouring each other cups of fragrant chrysanthemum tea.
Fuck it. Dovi is getting hungry now too, she’s reaching back to untie her apron and about to suggest they make a run for it when Marc appears in the doorway.
Marc’s smile is big and unconvincing, tone deceptively chipper, “so, ah — Vale said she’s left to get a bottle of wine for us,” she announces. Her pointy little chin juts out defiantly, “apparently she left the bottle she was going to bring at home.”
Dovi’s well stocked and meticulously organised wine rack stands in the corner of the room, neither Casey nor Dovi mention it.
Marc sniffles and then wipes her nose with the back of her hand, she looks so very young in that moment. Even Casey is biting her lip, expression sympathetic. Marc shakes her head, dark ringlets bobbing, she laughs softly like she’s embarrassed.
Dovi’s heart aches. She darts a sideways glance and Casey’s lips are pressed together like there’s something she wants to tell Marc but doesn’t want to say either.
It doesn’t matter in the end because Marc marches over and smacks a loud kiss against Dovi’s cheek, “anyway, it smells good in here, Chef.”
The finger hooked through Dovi’s belt loop retreats. Casey straightens up. Dovi can practically see Casey retreating as well, her expression shuttering as she re-establishes a safe evacuation distance from all of them. Dovi opens her mouth and then closes it upon realising that she doesn’t know what she even wants to say.
“I should probably go,” Casey smiles tightly, checks her watch, “my parents have a reservation at Le Bernardin and I’m already late.”
Dovi’s brow furrows.
“Oh, I forgot your parents are here,” Marc’s smile softens, “how are they?”
Casey snorts, “they’re fine, still jet lagged but fine — or at least they will be unless I make them wait any longer,” she runs a hand through her hair, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay,” she smiles apologetically and Dovi almost believes her. “I’ll catch you both later.”
Casey’s lips quirk, “and, I mean, Vale,” she adds, pauses as she chooses her words, “well, I’m sure I’ll see her around too.”
Marc nods, cheeks tinged pink.
“Bye Casey,” Dovi murmurs.
Casey blinks. Her lips press together, a nod, she offers them both a small tired smile before turning to leave.
Dovi watches through the doorway as she shrugs on her heavy wool coat — probably belonging to her boyfriend — the hem swishing around her stocking covered ankles.
Dovi’s chest does something truly treacherous as Casey inspects herself in the hall mirror, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. A pale hand smooths down the front of her coat and Casey tucks a stray tendril of hair behind her left ear before she quietly lets herself out. Dovi’s squeezes the handle of the whisk until her fingertips go numb.
“Hey.”
Dovi blinks, twists around guiltily to find Marc smiling sheepishly up at her.
“Sorry about all of,” Marc makes a face, “you know — that,” she presses another kiss to Dovi’s cheek, gentler this time. Oh right.
“That’s okay, I understand,” and Dovi does. Asking Marc and Vale to be civil is like asking Casey to stay in a room after she’s already decided she’s going.
Marc huffs, bright eyes crinkling, her mascara is visibly smudged. “Dovi,” is all she says, soft and fond, and Dovi understands that too.
Marc licks her lips, blinks slowly, expectant. Dovi snorts before leaning in and pressing her lips to Marc’s. She understands that as well.
Casey sneaking through his own house to fool around with Dovi, and getting laughed at (fondly) because he stubbed his toe in the dark hallway.
mannnnnnnn you can’t just say this to me like wow I will be thinking about this all day. dovi and casey fooling around after olivia has gone to bed and stubbornly NOT TALKING about anything that might be a dangerous topic like they’re not talking about how dovi wasn’t in that delivery room but maybe he’s stroking that c-section scar with a little reverence. and they’re not talking about how dovi still goes quiet and gets mad sometimes and casey knows those moods because he had those too when he first retired so he’s not going to press but he’s not running in the other direction either like godddd. both of them still so guarded but the door is open a crack and they’re both trying and they’re both still here. they’re laughing as they stumble upstairs in the dark. they’re so deep in the country, sandwiched between green grassy fields, it feels so far away from the outside world, they feel so young and foolish again and that’s sort of what got them into this mess !!
