It's the end of Nonbinary One-Month-Which-Became-Two: here are the 6 final oneshots I've been working on. Enjoy, and don't forget to leave a comment.
A/N: FT + questioning + trans. Questioning character uses he/him pronouns even when presenting as other genders.
Sometimes
Yukino threw her stuff down by the door and immediately swooped Frosch and Lector into a hug.
"Hey, you," she crooned in her melodiously deep voice, squeezing the Exceeds.
Sting looked on with amusement as Lector pretended to struggle but really snuggled closer. Lector loved Yukino as much as Frosch did, but didn't like admitting it. Hell, it had taken Lector long enough to acknowledge Rogue in front of outside witnesses. Silly cat.
"Rogue," Sting called, "she's here."
His keen hearing picked up the sound of a pen tossed on a desk, Rogue's chair creaking, the shuffle as Rogue pushed his hands through his hair. Okay, maybe he couldn't hear that part, but he knew Rogue and knew what he was doing basically always.
Yukino put down the Exceeds and launched at Sting next, wrapping him in one of her tight, special hugs which she doled out generously to every living creature.
"I take it things went well?" he asked as they let go.
"Things went so well." She beamed at him, foot tapping out a little dance. "I found exactly the spell I was looking for and more."
"Come tell us." He motioned her toward the sofas, hearing Rogue's footsteps finally plodding in from the other room.
"Hello, Yukino," Rogue said, angling for the sofa but getting swept into a hug anyway. "Back from a job?"
"Sort of," she said, as they made themselves comfortable. "I was looking for a spell that could change my voice permanently."
"Oh." Rogue blinked, seeming a little taken aback. Knowing him plenty well enough to not take this the wrong way, Yukino rattled on about chasing after rumors she'd heard.
"All the usual stuff has a catch," she explained. "There are plenty of temporary spells. Then there are spells which change your speaking voice but not singing or humming—" (things Yukino was known to do often) "—and ones with quirks like failing when it's humid. I wanted to find a spell that works."
"You wouldn't think it'd be hard," Sting said, leaning forward. "It's just changing a voice."
"But actual production of sound waves is a complicated," Yukino said. "Magic is magic, but it still has to follow laws."
"And there are unique ways every person uses their throat and mouth muscles to produce their own voice," Rogue added. "If you want it to still be you, that's going to be tricky magic."
The other two looked at him.
"Yeah," Sting said. "And that."
"But," Yukino said victoriously, "I found a mage who uses sensory magic. It affects people's senses by actually affecting how your body takes in signals. We used that to work backward and affect how my body produces signals."
Her grin was so infectious. Sting was beaming too; beside him, Rogue had his chin propped in his palm, paying close attention.
"Well?" Sting asked Yukino. "I mean, I can tell you haven't, you know, done it…"
Yukino blushed shyly and pulled a paper wrapping out of an inner pocket. Inside, she showed them a small, single biscuit.
"Higashi?" Rogue asked.
"Hopefully that's what it'll taste like going down." Yukino made a face. "It smelled awful to make it. But yeah, this holds the spell. I haven't taken it yet because…"
She paused and looked to the side.
"She said I might have a sore throat and dizziness for the first few days. It'll take adjusting. So I was hoping…"
Sting didn't even let her finish her sentence.
"You can stay here while you adjust. Then you don't have to speak if your throat is too sore." He grinned. "Rogue says I talk enough for the whole family anyway."
"Thank you," she said in relief.
Frosch hopped up in her lap.
"You can stay in my bed," they offered.
"Frosch," Rogue sighed, "you don't have a bed. You sleep next to my head."
Frosch blinked. "So?"
"I don't think I'll fit on Rogue's pillow," Yukino laughed, petting Frosch and making them purr.
Though he rolled his eyes, Rogue smiled and rose. "I'll set up our guest room."
"Perfect." Sting clapped his hands together. "Yukino, wanna help me with dinner?"
Once in the kitchen with the clang and fizzle of cooking, Yukino gave him a questioning look and Sting nodded: Rogue couldn't hear them over the noise.
"How is he?" she asked softly.
"Okay."
Sting shrugged, off-handed. He wasn't sure how much it was okay to tell her, since this was technically Rogue's secret, but he'd had to let her in on it because he needed someone to ask questions of. Yukino had seen Rogue often enough in private settings that she'd figured it out on her own anyway.
"He—he wore earrings the other day," Sting said. "And was walking differently." And cuddling differently. "Then we arrived at the guild and he switched back."
Headway—and not headway.
"That's good," Yukino said encouragingly. "He's trying things out. At least he's got you he can be open around."
"As much as he's open about anything." Sting grimaced.
Yukino touched his arm.
"It's scary. It's a big change, realizing you're not the gender you thought. Some days it's just easier to pretend you're still the old you. You need to give him time. He can't come out to people until he's out to himself."
"Yeah, but he's uncomfortable. Almost daily. It's been almost six months since he told me he was questioning things."
The thing he wouldn't say was how unhappy Rogue had been for the past year. He didn't smile as much; Sting couldn't always reach him through the fog of his thoughts. Little things, like details of Yukino's transition, could make him silent for hours.
Sting didn't mind exactly, because Rogue was always quiet, but he worried Rogue was depressed. He probably was, with all the changes happening in his head. Sting just wanted him to arrive at whatever destination this torturous journey was taking him to so that Rogue could inhabit that person and finally be at home in him—or her or their—self.
It was hard to express it, but he was scared: not of where this was going or that he wouldn't love whoever Rogue opened up as, but scared about how hard it was in the meantime.
Yukino opened her mouth, but Sting suddenly motioned: he could hear Rogue's footsteps shuffling upstairs.
"Give it time," Yukino said again. "Now what do I do with these leeks?"
A minute later, Rogue plodded down the stairs and joined them. To Sting's absolute surprise, he spooned Sting's back and wrapped his arms around his waist. Right in front of Yukino.
Yukino didn't react, but Sting had to catch his breath.
"That smells really good, you guys," Rogue said.
"That's all Sting's work," Yukino laughed. "I'm just following the guildmaster's orders."
Sting could hear Rogue's grin in his breath. Sighing, he leaned into Rogue's arms. He could get used to this.
When Rogue loudly kissed Sting's ear and walked over to set the table, Sting turned to gape at him. And then he saw that Rogue was doing it again: that little swagger, more graceful and bold, a whole different way of holding himself.
In front of Yukino. Which he'd never done in front of anyone outside their family before.
"I love you," Sting stammered.
Both Rogue and Yukino looked up, Rogue turning bright red and Yukino letting out a surprised giggle.
"Rogue," she laughed, "shall I leave the room while he lets his romantic feelings out?"
"That's okay," Rogue said gruffly. "Not like the idiot hasn't embarrassed me before."
"When?" Sting protested.
"Last solstice," Yukino and Rogue said together.
"Oh. Wait—I did?"
"Typical: you don't even recall," Rogue chortled, rolling his eyes.
"You kissed him in front of everybody, remember?" Yukino said.
"Oh. Yeah. It was a really good day, okay? Rogue looked so damn good."
Yukino burst into peals of laughter while Rogue put his face in his hands, stifling his own laugh.
Sting looked between them, ending on Rogue and watching the way his shoulders moved, the way his long fingers swirled as he motioned dramatically to Yukino and made her laugh even harder.
"Let me take over that," Rogue said, coming over and rescuing the fry pan from Sting's forgetful hands. "It wouldn't be the first time you've burnt stir-fry staring at me."
Sting felt his face grow hot enough to cook the meal. The one time he burned things, it was because Rogue was walking around naked.
"What?" Rogue asked. "Can't handle a taste of your own medicine?"
Yukino was in serious danger of busting some internal organ as she wheezed for breath. Sting just opened and closed his mouth. This new cocky Rogue…this Rogue would be the death of him. In the best way possible. A Rogue that flirted with him in front of others… Oh yes. A wonderful heart-giving-out death.
"I'm sorry, Yukino," Sting finally said, "but if you're staying with us, you'll be seeing a lot of this, so…"
He leaned in and kissed Rogue—not a short one, either: a kiss hard enough to make Rogue breathless. Take that, gorgeous.
"This is going to be an interesting few days," Rogue grumbled, smiling down at the pan.
His beautiful confidence remained through the meal, right up until dessert when Yukino pulled out her biscuit and took a deep breath.
"Here goes," she said.
Rogue sat stock still watching her eat the little wafer; Sting watched him out of the corner of his eye. After a few moments, Yukino suddenly tilted to the side, catching herself on the table.
"Whoa," she croaked, hoarse and dry. "That feels weird."
"Are you okay?" Sting and Rogue asked together.
She nodded. Rogue got up silently and brought her a glass of water. She bowed her thanks.
They sat around together for another hour, Sting filling Yukino's silence in with his own words—he was very good at one-sided conversations—and Rogue actually speaking up more than usual too. After accidentally making her laugh with tales of their early jobs together (laughing turned into several minutes of coughing), she croak-whispered that she was going to bed, and Rogue showed her upstairs to the spare room. After about two seconds of begging on Frosch's part, Yukino happily agreed to let the cats sleep with her, so the fuzzy pair abandoned their human friends to sleeping alone.
As they undressed in their room, Sting was only vaguely listening to Rogue's sounds—heartbeat, breathing, rustles of movements—when Rogue's heavy sigh caught his attention.
"What's up?"
"Nothing," Rogue sighed, sitting down on his futon.
Sting stared at his back for a long minute.
"Do you want to change your voice?" he asked.
Rogue turned around in surprise. "Mine? No. I like my voice how it is. It just made me think. That's all."
"Alright. I love your voice." Sting grinned. "That said, I'd fall in love with your voice if you decided to change it, too."
Rogue smiled lop-sidedly.
"You're a sap." As Sting lay down across from him, Rogue slid beneath their shared comforter and added, "Thanks."
"What for?"
"Dunno." Rogue shrugged. "Yourself."
Staring at each other across the pillows, Sting yawned and enjoyed Rogue's slowly-roving study of his face.
"What do I look like to you?" Rogue asked.
"Pardon?"
"What gender do I look like?"
Sting narrowed his eyes in thought. "I don't know. But a confident one. A really attractive one—don't laugh, I'm being honest. You have this way of moving. Graceful."
"'Way of moving.'" Smiling, Rogue shook his head. "I do move differently on purpose. I mean, around the guild and other people. I got teased for how I walked when I was little. I don't think I ever told you about that."
Sting shook his head and reached over to trace patterns on the back of Rogue's hand. It took only a minute to get Rogue talking.
"I learned everything from my father, and everything my father did was related to the shadows. I learned how to move and fight from him. I never thought that would be weird until I met other children when we came to this time period. They made fun of me for how I moved."
"Did you have long hair too?" Sting guessed.
Rogue nodded ruefully.
"I love how you look." Sting ran his fingers through Rogue's hair, loose for the night.
"You should. It's your job."
"That's the confidence I was talking about," Sting laughed. "You're a rogue when you're like this, you know that? When you're being yourself."
"Guess I was named well."
"Your name is perfect."
After a moment, Rogue said, "One day I'll figure myself out, and you won't have to guess anymore."
"Guessing is…fun?" Sting tried. But Rogue was being serious. Sting admitted, "Not always."
"Change sucks." Shame hovered in Rogue's face.
"I'm still not sorry," Sting said, firm. "I really like the you that you're becoming. I only wish you weren't so shy."
"I wasn't shy this evening."
"You weren't," Sting agreed with a hard swallow.
Rogue took his hand and rubbed circles into his skin with a thumb. They enjoyed a few minutes of silence that way, just them, just together. Just right.
Leaning in, Sting requested, "Goodnight kisses?"
"You're asking? What have you done to my boyfriend?"
"Shut up," Sting grumbled, closing the distance and sealing their lips together. He nibbled on Rogue until he got a happy groan, Rogue interlacing their fingers and squeezing.
"Goodnight," Rogue said as they lay back.
"Love you."
"Love you, too, Sting."
A/N: Sting is in the running for boyfriend of the year.
Sequel fic: "Old Times."