by
An F/F-with-a-twist romance novella about seeing past the surface.
Yoshi Ito was an expert at making people see what he wanted them to see. What most people never realized was that his private life was as much of a special effect as the lighting and projections he designed for the theatre.
Lesley Hayes had her own skills at creating imagery; a successful freelance costume designer, she could turn a sweet-natured guy into a villain or a beautiful dancer into a bog monster. She was trying not to look too hard at Yoshi, because she didn't date men.
But Yoshi had a secret: he was not what he seemed. When Lesley discovered the truth, would she be glad? Or would Yoshi have to say goodbye to the woman he'd come to love?
- 3 To Be Read lists
Publisher: Independently Published
Genres:
Pairings: F-NB
Heat Level: 3
Romantic Content: 4
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Genderfluid, Lesbian, Non Binary
Protagonist 1 Age: 36-45
Protagonist 2 Age: 26-35
Tropes: Interracial Relationship, Office / Workplace Romance, Slow Burning Love
Word Count: 22,600
Setting: Los Angeles
Languages Available: English
The black jacket of his suit pulled away from his body enough for her to notice how well-fitted the trousers were at his trim waist. “Where do you get those suits?”
“Three-day Suit Broker. It’s a good uniform. I never have to think about what to wear.”
“I’d love to see you in some kimono silk,” she confessed. He didn’t answer, but he smiled, and then leaned close and kissed her. His mouth was soft. She didn’t pull away. After a moment, he did. “What’s going on here, Yoshi?”
“Let’s go sit.” They returned to the front room and sat next to each other on the couch. The light in the room all came from a small white-painted chandelier hung in a corner. It was strung with dozens of black and white beads. Yoshi set his coffee on the table and sat back, sideways, facing Lesley. “I had a need to kiss you. I have a need to touch you.”
“I told you … .”
READ MORE“I know. And I need to tell you something. But I’ve been waiting a long time for this and so I would ask you if I can touch you first.”
She wanted him to. It was deeply confusing. “First tell me your cats’ names.”
He smiled. “Neko, Suko, and … Hiro.” Lesley laughed. He leaned in and kissed her again. After a moment, she broke away long enough to set her coffee mug on the table, then lunged for his mouth. What even is this? she thought helplessly, and gave up trying to figure it out.
Some time later, Yoshi rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. “I didn’t mean to pin you down like that. Let’s try this.” He sat them up for a moment and settled her against him, her back to his front, then reclined again. “Now you can get up if you want.” His voice was soft against her hair. He had a hand on her waist, and a hand on her shoulder. Both started to move, lightly. His mouth was against her neck. Lesley lay still, wondering if anything he did would ever feel wrong. He touched her breast. “Is this all right?”
“Yes.” More soft touches. He seemed to be reading her mind, guessing what she wanted. When his hand went between her legs she sucked in a breath. He paused. “Don’t stop,” she said, voice tight. He didn’t. His breath against her shoulder accelerated along with hers. After several long, delicious minutes Lesley was whimpering, moving against him, and she felt his head press back into the couch when she came, moaning, wishing he was kissing her. “Oh my Jesus.” She caught her breath. And she realized he was still very tense against her, below her, but something was missing. He was as turned on as she was. So why … .
Lesley slid off him and turned around, on her knees on the couch, staring at Yoshi. Gray eyes bored into brown. “What the actual fuck.” She pushed his jacket open. Unbuttoned his shirt. Pulled it out of his trousers. Underneath he wore a lightweight sports tank that revealed a hairless chest and small, indisputable breasts. Almost angrily, she set her hand on his crotch, where there should have been an erection and wasn’t. “You fucking Yentled me!” She pushed back and sat in the far corner of the couch, hugging her knees, staring at him.
He let out a breath that was something between a laugh and a sob. “This isn’t a game,” he - she? - said shakily. “This is me.” He sat up slowly, and pushed back to his own corner. She couldn’t stop thinking of him that way. He. Him. But Yoshi was a woman, too.
“You always present as a man.” She stared at him a moment longer, assimilating the single, silent shake of the head. “No. You present as gender-neutral. Everyone just assumes, right? So when you’re in a room with a bunch of straight guys, they’re thinking of you as a colleague, not as a potential fuck buddy.” She blew out a breath. A lot of things were starting to make sense, like why she’d been so attracted to him in the first place. “How long have you lived like this?”
“Since high school. Since the first day, in homeroom, when instead of Yoshiko the teacher said Yoshi, and I answered because it felt right. Twenty-two years.”
“Why did you want to do it this way? Why not simply tell me?”
“Because I was desperate to kiss you,” said Yoshi. “I was afraid if I told you, you would … not.”
“Even after you knew what a whack history I have? Did you seriously think your thing was weirder than my thing?” Lesley sucked down the rest of her coffee. “There is no gender-neutral pronoun, is there.”
“Not yet. Not in English. Except for ‘they,’ which is clumsy.”
“That’s for sure. And ‘we’ is fucking ludicrous. So. You are physiologically female, attracted to other females, because as we know gender and sexuality are not the same thing,” Lesley lectured, trying to be logical because her mind was pretty much blown, “but for the public and professionally, for all intents and purposes, you are a male. Because there’s no other way to be in our ridiculous binary society.” She looked up at Yoshi; there was such naked hope in those brown eyes that she almost cried. “I’m getting there. Do you prefer he/him to she/her?”
“Yes.”
“So I can keep thinking of you as He. Jesus wept.”
“I was afraid you would think I was intentionally deceiving you, that it was a game. It isn’t.”
COLLAPSE