Gemini – Chapter 6

I dreamt of another world, a life shared. After I kissed Ashe within her cell, before I gave my soul to Kalista, my subconscious wrote another script, where bloody violence became tense harmony. All dreams had gone with the black spear but, through either Ashe's proximity, or my stress, our curious refuge has returned.

Outlandish conveniences, new to waking eyes but familiar now, decorate our flat. I sit on a firm bed, our bed, watching the walls. Our relationship was at a crossroads. We wanted a family but argued about the details. Ashe wanted one of us to give up work for the child. Until recently, there was no question of my staying home but Ashe earnt a promotion, which levelled our salaries. My unsociable job with mountain rescue had always been a point of contention, while Ashe worked office hours for an academy. Now my only counter was a lack of parental warmth. I could rightly be selfish but it would cast a long shadow across our impending marriage.

Something had to break.

Our front door scrapes. I'd promised to fix that when I got home this morning. Ashe calls, 'Honey-bear?' with rising concern. She knows I don't ignore my responsibilities. Her footsteps roam softly. No matter how much I protest, Ashe claims that I wake up easily when I'm on nights, that I growl whenever she moves. I think she's projecting her frustration.

She peers into the bedroom. Throughout her approach, an awful haze obscures her loveliness but I know the falling lines of her sorrow too well. She coos, 'Oh, Sej… come on, babe.' Slipping her bag to the floor, she kneels to catch my gaze. 'You don't even want to see me?' She toys with her blouse. 'I'm wearing your favourite.'

Her efforts make me smile. 'You're my favourite.'

'Aw…' she touches my knee. 'Does that mean you'll show me… your sexy little secret?' I hear desperation behind her sweet nothings. 'Please…?'

I know I'm being silly. We've seen each other at our worst, in petulance and sickness. I've watched her pluck hair from parts of her body that I'm forbidden to say. Closing my flawed eyes in shame, I finger the wires of cold, ugly metal. The worst part is where the pads tickle my nose. Apparently, my nerves will ignore the pressure, given time. Before that horrible change occurs, I perform stupid rituals, blinking over the basin, rubbing my sockets until my knuckles bleed, in case the wing of a dead fly comes loose or my stiff lenses grow pliant.

Viewing Ashe up close, with new clarity, might be a tender mercy but I'd rather she didn't see me like this, however kindly she brushes my fringe. 'You're so gorgeous.'

'I think you need glasses.' Capturing her pretty hand, I kiss her engagement ring. 'It's not fair. You deserve a strong woman to look out for you, and I'm falling apart.'

'You're not falling apart.' Ashe hugs me. 'You're still my tough, reliable Sej and you can do all the same difficult jobs. Only now you can accessorise!'

'Me?' I laugh. 'The dyke with twenty pairs of black socks?' It was Ashe who chose the frames, giddily poring over the catalogue. I still hope to use contacts but I've had painful reactions to every type. We still don't know if the solution or material is causing it.

'Well…' Ashe fiddles with my collar. 'I can accessorise.'

'Your living doll.' She pauses, uncertain whether my comment was a gesture of devotion or disquiet. 'I know you love me but... you can drive, and you earn as much money as I do without having to pull shifts.' Happy memories of Ashe's wild youth cause me to chuckle. 'I'm proud, you know? I remember when you couldn't even boil a kettle without starting a fire.'

'That was my landlord's fault! You said!'

'I know, kitten, but the point is, you only need me to play house, and I hardly brighten the place up.'

'Well, if you stopped wearing black and…'

'Wore nothing?' One of Ashe's little kinks involves me "surprising" her with nudity. One example is answering the door, wearing nothing but a tool-belt, like I'm a stranger trying to plumb her sink without "getting my kit wet". I'm terrible at role-playing, and she's not much better at scripting. 'I'd make your guests even more uncomfortable.'

'Our guests. My friends do like you, believe it or not.'

'Well, of course they do, showing off their "tolerance". I prefer the cavemen I work with.'

'Is that Udyr still going on about "carpet-burn"?'

'Yeah, and it makes as much sense now as it did then.' I'm grateful the mood's lightened. Ever since we were children, Ashe bore a strange weightless quality that raised me above my dull, dreary council estate of grey skies and woodchip. She really was my first love. I can even trace my sexual development all the way back to her prepubescent reflex of playing with her nipples. It embarrassed her parents, and mine, when I defended her actions with unsightly passion. 'You know, I've been planning this talk for days and you blow me off course immediately.' She goes blank with terror. 'Don't worry. I'm not breaking off our engagement or becoming a man.'

Ashe falls in to my lap and fiercely presses my hand above her heart. 'I would stay with you!' she blurts.

'Ashe…'

'I always thought you'd be happier as a man! If you ever transitioned, I would help you every step of the way.'

My whole being flutters. I think I'd been waiting my whole life to hear someone say that. Hearing it from a lover is overwhelming. 'Even if you had to give up my...?'

She grins. 'Yep, every morning, I'd bind your breasts, do up your tie and suck your cock.'

'Since when have I worn a tie?' Kissing her greedy lips, I fearfully picture the tooth marks adorning her toys. I'm not sure if I'd trust her with the real thing. 'No, sorry to disappoint you but I've crossed that bridge a few times and… I'm okay.' She hops onto the mattress to give me space. 'Perhaps I'll never truly settle but who does?'

'The cosmetics industry would vanish into thin air.' She mimes the disappearance like a stage performer. 'Gyms would shut down.'

I scowl. 'Please, I have to rescue enough cyclists and fell-runners who don't respect nature. Lock them all up in a big, sweaty box where they can't bother me.' Collapsing over my knees, I breathe the liberation of disclosure. 'We all change, not always for the good. It's nice to know that you'd follow me down a rabbit hole or through a looking glass.'

'Call me old-fashioned but I wouldn't have proposed otherwise.'

'I'm a lucky girl.' I play with my bracelet, or "manacle" as Ashe calls it, her lovingly hand-crafted substitute for a ring. I'm often jealous of myself, netting a "master jeweller". The college gave her the title in brochures, to her embarrassment. 'Funny thing is… my next words might sound ungrateful, considering your offer.'

'Take your time.'

'Thinking about our relationship, I've realised one very important thing. I'm not happy if I'm just a companion. I have to be useful. Most of our lives, I've been your fitter, provider, chauffeur, but you can do all of those jobs yourself… and better.'

'That's a bit of a stretch.'

'You have fewer points on your driver's licence, you earn more per hour, and last weekend you replaced a belt on the washing machine.'

Ashe counts off the replies on her fingers. 'You've driven twenty times as far, society undervalues your contribution, and you would have replaced the belt in half the time.'

'Even if I run faster, your path is now quicker, and I'm not holding you back.' Sliding off the bed, I go down on bended knee. My valiant Ashe proposed like this, and I was ecstatic and ashamed. How could I be so remiss? The privilege of acceptance was rightly hers, not mine. 'Let me bear your children.'

Her jaw drops in disbelief. She covers her mouth as convulsions drive loud moans, like she's the one going into labour. 'No… S… Sej… you can't…' She's refusing me? 'You can't…'

'Ashe?'

'You can't make me this happy when you'll be stuck at home feeling miserable. I want us both...'

'There's no third way! No magic bullet… and I refuse to waste my life pleasing myself when I could raise your family!' Clutching her wrist, I lay kisses between words. 'Even if I did struggle, you'd be there for me as you are now… putting up with your sulky bear… that lumbering oaf who snarls at your friends, goes to sleep on dates, whines about having to wear glasses… and only puts out when you beg.'

She cracks a broad smile, her teeth bright within her glowing skin. 'Of course! All of those things are what make you charming.' she dabs at her running mascara. 'Well… apart from that last one… sometimes.'

I know she likes a challenge, even if she does gripe. 'Anyone else would have kicked me out of bed.'

'Or strapped you to it.'

'You're the only person who'd dare!' We both laugh. I gaze up at her in adoration. 'I think you're the strongest woman I've met. You lost everything… your gold medal, your marriage…' Ashe's Olympic ambition quickly sunk her first relationship. Her sacrifice was all for naught when a chronic injury permanently damaged her right arm. 'I guess you even lost your parents.'

Our jubilation cools. Any sons or daughters I bear might never be grandchildren. Both my parents were alcoholics. Mum died after a meal of cheap wine and ibuprofen. A year later, Dad started getting the shakes. He crashed a rickety VNA forklift and fell to his death. I was mercifully raised by my Dad's feckless older sister, who was grateful to have some direction. Auntie Seryl, many would agree, was hardly a saint, but as close to one as her potential and circumstance allowed. She died of cancer three years ago. Six months before her death, she finally married a simple, decent man. We stay in touch.

Ashe's parents never accepted our relationship or her divorce. They'd restructured, and lost, a family business to finance her wedding. She hadn't asked for their money but refusing their involvement was impossible. Shacking up with me was the final straw. They weren't really bigots, merely furious that Ashe had been "lying" to them while they bankrupted themselves. They couldn't get their head around the fact that I knew my preferences from childhood, while Ashe didn't.

We've come through a lot. I'm guessing our shared resilience played a large part in keeping us together. Lifting her chin, I tell her, 'But you survived, and look at you now, successful and responsible, helping a new generation of kids find a place in the world… a place that isn't halfway up a mountain, stoned off their tits.'

'I've only got where I am because you gave up everything to support me.'

'And nothing has made me happier.'

She bursts into tears.

We spend a while simply hugging and kissing, affirming our bond. As expected, Ashe's hand roams under my boxer shorts. Even when I'm tired, or just want to be held, she pushes her luck. I think I'd miss her attention if it ceased. We then lie back while Ashe rests her cheek on my bosom and strokes my waist. 'I can't imagine you being pregnant.'

'Neither can I… it… scares me. All those changes wrecking my body, slowing me down… but I don't want to reach the menopause and feel that I've run away from a good fight.'

'Heh… that sounds like you.'

'Thanks. I really dread all those arrogant looks about me "reverting"… you know, the "mannish" lesbian surrendering to her natural urges… or accusations that I've cheerfully taken advantage of some guy so I can sit on my arse and claim benefits.'

'I lived off you for long enough,' she grumbles.

'That wasn't a dig.' I tousle Ashe's hair. 'You present as a middle class femme, it's… I don't want to say it's different but you won't get accused of hypocrisy by certain people.'

'Are you worried about what they'll say at work?' I detect a thrilling undercurrent of righteous anger, like she's preparing for battle on my behalf.

'Oh no, we have some very long conversations when it's dead. Everybody knows I want kids. If anything, they'll moan about who gets the overtime.' Usually, those arguments are a major source of contention but, in Ashe's embrace, disagreements feel very small. 'The hardest part would be renting a truck big enough to hold all the presents from Voli. He spends half his pay packet on his nephews and nieces.'

'If that's how he's going to be, you must invite him round. You've hidden him long enough.'

'I'm not hiding him. Our days off clash.' Also, fraternising with colleagues isn't really part of our culture. Maybe it's an "old male" thing? I'm the youngest in our lodge by nearly ten years. Volunteers, guides and educators are two a penny but full time operatives are few because the wages and recognition are relatively poor. We are a charity so means are limited. Voli and I may be lifers but most of us are burnouts and misfits from other emergency services. Udyr was a fireman who was kicked out for disruption. Olaf was a first responder for the paramedics before he wrote off too many vehicles. Why we let him fly a helicopter is anyone's guess. 'We'll have to visit him. Our flat's a bit cramped and I wasn't joking about his size. Our bosses only took him on because he looked good in photographs and was mad enough to buy all his own equipment. He likes his job far too much.'

'I love hearing about your colleagues. They sound a lot friendlier than mine.' We get on because we don't have to be friends but, yes, politics aren't a concern. 'I get stupid comments about my straight history, not so much from other teachers, mainly facilities and administration. Having Tryn join has been a double-edged sword. Our rapport sparks rumours but he won't let anyone use our past against me. Should anyone accuse him of holding a torch for his ex-wife, he says he'd rather bang my new fiancée.'

The horror, the horror. 'That's why he creeps about me?'

'Pretty much.'

'If he asks to be the donor, I'll crash his workshop and build him into a wall.' However distasteful, I had weighed the pros and cons of getting knocked up the old-fashioned way. Ninety seconds of poking sounds more honest and endurable than hours of mucking about with surgical equipment. However, there's a legal minefield if you bypass the system and I've got a poor head for such things. Also, if it gets me out of sex with Tryndamere, the doctors can use all the machines in front of all the students they want.

'Aw… you'll break his heart.'

'I'll break more than his damn heart if he comes near me.' Ashe bursts out laughing. 'I'm serious!'

'You sound like a bloke ranting about his gay colleague.'

'I'm not scared!' An awkward silence follows my outburst.

Ashe reads a lot of yaoi, which I can happily endorse if it means I can sleep once in a while. Apparently, the first inkling of her attraction to me was a teenage fantasy that I was a lithe boy pleasuring adult men. I was uncomfortable with that image, and she's never been terribly considerate of my limits. One of our worst arguments erupted from her condescending use of the term "gold star" when I tried to shut down the conversation. As a youth, I had to fight for this identity or lose my sanity while straight-acting Ashe could simply get on.

Of course, we made up with lots of kissing and I-love-yous. That weekend, I received a classy men's overcoat as an apology. To show my acceptance, I bought Ashe a Merchant Ivory film, starring a young Rupert Graves, and went down on her while it was playing. She said the film was hot and a bit soppy, just like me.

To be fair, Rupert was very pretty, like a member of an eighties new wave group. I never would have guessed from that migraine-causing Sherlock noise that Ashe loves. I prefer Columbo.

The tension disperses while I number the crime shows I watched with Auntie Seryl. A pity, she's not alive to see my children. Ashe pecks me on the cheek. 'Sorry, that was bad of me, pushing your buttons. I know you're feeling embattled.'

'Yeah…'

'Look.' Her palm bounces off the mattress. 'You've made all my dreams come true, so, it's only fair that I do the same. If there's anything you want to eat or drink, any films you want to put on... if you want me out of your hair for the night, so you can process everything...'

'Thanks but I've spent enough time alone with my thoughts.'

'I was hoping you'd say that.' She lifts her leg, wriggling her toes while her skirt shrinks past her garters. 'If there's anything you want me to wear… or not wear… then…' We're definitely having sex tonight. How to make it special is the question. I have one selfish urge that I'm suppressing with all my heart. Ashe's offer keeps repeating as I stare into the distance. While I chew my lip, she jauntily straddles my waist and leans to one side. 'What are you looking at, hey?' She follows my gaze. 'The toy drawer?'

'Yeah…'

'That's not like you.' She tweaks my nose. 'Forget about me. I want to treat you for once.' When I don't respond, she pouts. 'You never tell me what you like in bed.'

'I like you.' That's no lie. Maybe it's a failure of imagination but I'm happy to be with Ashe. Everything else can follow.

'There's got to be something or you wouldn't have gone quiet.' She giggles. 'Do you want me to get you pregnant with the strap-on? Is that it?' Every muscle clenches in fear as I push my face into the duvet. She gasps. 'Oh… oh my… that is what you want.' I can hardly breathe, let alone talk. 'Sej? Oh, Sej, I shouldn't have laughed. I'm so sorry.'

'No, it's all right… I'm… pathetic… really. How could you take me seriously if…'

'Oh Sejuani.' She takes both my hands. 'My poor Sejuani.' Her pity feels like an epitaph. 'How could I be so careless? You were never worried about our relationship ending if you were a man. You're scared of becoming a woman.'

'I am a woman.'

'But in your head, you're… something else, aren't you? Maybe not a gender but a role… a tower of strength… and you don't want to crumble in front of me because I won't love you anymore.'

'You think I don't trust you?'

'No, it's fine! We all get insecure. So many times, I've caught wrinkles, gone up dress sizes and wept in front of the mirror because you'll dump me for a younger model.' That's unacceptable, I have to be more attentive. 'I know full well you don't care but it doesn't stop me worrying… same as you.'

'But you can channel your fear into positive action. You can lose weight. You can buy clothes and make-up. Once I've lost my pride, it's gone forever. I can't erase your memory. How can I be your strong fantasy when you've… seen…' her graceful, kingly Sejuani, bending and writhing like a submissive page boy, the magnificent Ares worshipping as Ganymede?

Ashe descends and removes all defiance with long, sensual kisses. 'Perhaps I don't want a fantasy… perhaps I want you.'

Swallowing, I feel myself, dragged over the precipice. 'You can have good intentions and say the right words… but… your feelings…'

'Are eternal.' She takes the first irrevocable step and lays me prone. I feel her warm weight on my hips, back and shoulders. I shiver when her lips touch my neck. 'You are my wonderful… beautiful… desirable Sejuani… and tonight…' she whispers, 'I will make you my woman.'

I'm no stranger to penetration. Fingers, toys and improvised objects have been part of my repertoire since I began masturbating. However, I'd never been properly fucked until now, given up my sheath to someone else's gratification. It's… hitting the spot. I'm not really getting off but I can feel those muscles involved in orgasm triggering, even if pleasure's not firing them. It's emotionally very satisfying. I've always preferred a vigorous run to the buzz of sugary food, and anything worth doing leaves me sore. I'm grunting and flexing as if I'm setting a new personal best. Shockwaves build up, forcing air from my lungs. Raising my head, arching my spine, I feel elbow joints lock out underneath my stony biceps.

I may be on all-fours but I'm not taking this lying down.

Ashe did everything right. She went down with intense hunger to prepare me. Her frenzied cunnilingus felt like a wild act of selfish desire, not an obligation. I bit the duvet cover so hard, a button came loose, while my boxer shorts hung off my thighs, making me feel exposed. After peeling off our clothes, Ashe then sat across my bottom, sustaining our connection while she fumbled with the harness. The three straps needed a fair bit of adjustment as her lower body's far more slender than mine. She used a generous amount of lubricant and entered slowly. When I moaned in a secret voice, hidden from both the world and myself, a gun sounded. Ashe rode my hips as though finally free to pursue the one goal she'd always craved.

I growl with blissful acquiescence to her powerful rhythm. This is exactly what I need. If she commits wholly to her pleasure then I can focus inwards. I grow buoyant as the tender soul of that young girl I once knew, that rising sun. With her gorgeous hands around the bars of her expensive pushbike, she changed me forever, quantising all my life to her inexorable dusk and dawn.

A three-fold mirror decorates the wall before me. Within its compound eyes, one face looks back. Our dream-world is porous now, fraying at the hem. I look through the divide and meet the gaze of Sejuani. Her skin is flush with ecstasy while Ashe fucks her to completion.

Across the void, Sejuani speaks. 'You were right all along.'

'How… so…?'

'Nothing… uh… can take away from you,' she manages between gasps. 'Even your identity now… wide hips raised in fertile invitation, praying for someone to master you, fulfil you... plant love inside where it may grow, unbidden... all of this takes away nothing!' A sudden flare causes my whole abdomen to clench… and release… I exhale, surprised I was holding my breath, yearning for something more. 'You can feel it, yes? The tickle that you wrap within your mind and squeeze?'

'I can.'

'Focus… before we're too raw to come. Rock against her like a wild mare and own us.'

Reaching blind, I pin Ashe's hand where she clutches my flank. With loud, animal strength, I buck into her, grinding against the base of her strap-on to involve my clitoris and hasten my feelings to critical mass. The damn breaks and anxious nerves go blissfully quiet as I sail on gentle waves of euphoria. My twitching walls grip Ashe's love as the pulses come slowly to an end. She collapses over me, clearly spent. Her arms encircle my trunk, underneath my breasts, while her cheek nestles between my shoulder blades. The corner of her lip grazes the little hairs on my skin.

Sejuani speaks over Ashe's murmured happiness. 'Feel your might, how your powerful back supports her weight, how your arms do not bend. You are strong, no matter what role you play. This beautiful new aspect will never diminish you, because nothing will diminish you. We are thousands, and we can only add to your glory.'

'Glory?' That's a strange word in this context.

'Yes… you are the only place where Ashe can find a purpose for her sharp claws. Bare your empty soul to her. That cursed hollow is the glove that will finally keep her from gouging herself. That is greater glory than simple conquest.' With that final thought, Sejuani dives into my psychic sea of milk, and I am left with Ashe and our silent reflections.

As my view begins to fade, Ashe holds me tight. 'Oh… Sej, you were wonderful… I… oh, I can't remember the last time I felt this close to you. Thank you so much for sharing this.'

'You did all the hard work. I should… return the favour before…'

She laughs. 'Did you not notice? I came before you did!'

'I… may have been distracted.'

She nuzzles me. 'Good answer.' The strap-on slides back and forth at a relaxed pace. 'Hmm, I never knew this harness drove back. You don't give much away, spoilsport.'

'Huh? It's not supposed to. There are bumps where the joins are but… it may have been loose, and you do have a big…'

'Oi!' She taps my bottom. 'What have I told you about mentioning that?'

'I know but… why can't I be happy with my fiancée's body?' She begins to sob. 'What's wrong?'

'You know that I'm happy… with you being anything… anything at all? You can be a tough, reliable husband, a radiant mother and a slutty, submissive fuck-toy. You can be all these things at once… and I will always love and respect you.'

The mirrors engulf the room. 'Ashe… thank you.'

Spiralling reflections become infinite. As light smears, I know my path. I had striven to become that one person who would accept Ashe's prowess… when I should have accepted her.