Title: Any Way You Are
Characters: Duke Orsino, Viola, Cesario
Pairings: Orsino/Viola, Orsino/Cesario (of a sort)
Rating: T for implied sexuality
Summary: "But she was there, and he was too, both Viola and Cesario in one; a secret sharer, as blind to the future as he was, and just as afraid of this this now opening up like a new spring flower."
Warnings: Genderplay. Lots of genderplay. Also unbetaed – my apologies.
Notes: Written originally for the Shakespeare Kink Meme on LJ. Also, this is my first het fic, if it can even be called that.
Disclaimer: I am not Shakespeare, obviously. Not profiting off this.
Any Way You Are
Orsino stumbled through the door into his bedchamber, thoroughly exhausted. Contrary to popular belief, there was actual governing involved in being Duke of Illyria, and today had been a particularly frustrating day, made more so by his attendants.
It wasn't any real fault of theirs, he told himself. They just weren't Cesario. No one was really, he mused, thinking back on the quick wit, gentle nature and consuming loyalty of the persona he had first fallen for. Even his wife of two months, kind and loving Viola, was not the same when stripped of her disguise – no less, but different all the same. But this musing was getting him nowhere, the thoughts of boys as girls and girls as boys only contributing to his brewing headache.
He breathed out slowly and rubbed his temples, thanking whatever kind soul had thought to dim the lights. In the darkness, he didn't notice the body in his bed until he was already there, reaching to draw back the covers.
He stopped short. "Viol-" he started, then blinked and corrected himself. "Cesario?"
"My lord?" The figure turned, and he could see Viola's face clearly. She – he maybe, he wasn't sure what term to use for his wife in a situation like this – was sitting perched on the far edge of the bed dressed in a page's clothes. Cesario's clothes. The same clothes, down to the very cap, that Cesario had been wearing at their first meeting.
"What are you doing?" he heard himself ask.
A look of uncertainty fluttered across that soft face. "I'm sorry," she said, clearly Viola, if only for this one moment. "I… I thought this was what you wanted."
Oh. The realization hit him like a freight train; strange joy followed almost immediately by a sharp shot of fear. Joy, that she could read his innermost thoughts, understand the love for that smokescreen person Cesario, and undertake to do this, this strange unexpected thing for him. Fear, that she now knew those hidden longings, the ones he had tried to suppress within himself for that beautiful boy, the ones that could destroy him with one spoken word. But she was there, and he was too, both Viola and Cesario in one; a secret sharer, as blind to the future as he was, and just as afraid of this this now opening up like a new spring flower.
He settled himself on the bed, not bothering to pull back to covers and reached out to draw his lovely boy/wife to him once more. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss to those sweet perfect lips, and felt them slowly curve up into a smile beneath his own. He broke away, leaving one hand to caress the arc of that lovely neck, letting the other slip under Cesario's tunic, running up his side and over the bindings holding back Viola's breasts.
She gasped into his mouth, leaning into the touch. Orsino leaned forward, lips almost touching the shell of his love's ear. "I love you, Viola, Cesario," he whispered into the darkness. "Any way you are."
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