(A/N: This is a warning from the author. There are sensitive subjects and sexual topics. Be wary of where you tread.)
What is this? Phoebe feels more afloat than usual. Maybe it was the lack of air circulating in the suffocating room or Sloan’s lips pressed against her neck. Licking, sucking, biting.
She whimpered against his touch.
“You like being empowered, my little Lacuna?” Sloan muttered into her ear in a low tone before going down further from jaw to neck to shoulders.
Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut, expelling a gasp. Her skin stung with pain, but tingled with pleasure at the Whisperer’s ministrations.
“Don’t we have a—“ She panted in the middle of her sentence. “Don’t we have a party to get to, Sloan?”
A sharp whine escaped her mouth when he latched on to a spot and nibbled at her first before running a soothing tongue over the spot.
Sloan smirked at this and went further down, hand running up her stomach. This made her shirt go up, exposing her skin to the cold air of her bedroom.
“Screw the party. Didn’t you say something about hating parties and having a full night to spend doing something else?” Sloan questioned, raising an eyebrow at his partner.
“By something else, do you mean do you?” Phoebe said breathlessly. He visibly was annoyed by her words as he helped her out of her shirt.
“No. Do your chores.” He said sarcastically. Phoebe tilted her head.
“That was my original intention for tonight. I suppose I’ll do them now since you insist.” She said, getting up from the bed.
Sloan huffed haughtily as Phoebe found her shirt and put it back on. Her face pink, but indifferent as if he did not suggest an activity that should be done with a lover.
“Don’t be like that, Phoebe” Sloan pouted as she fixed her light brown hair into a ponytail with the hair tie on her wrist. He eyed her hair, suddenly having the urge to touch every stand.
It looked so soft. Phoebe looked back at him, blue eyes sparkling.
“Don’t be like what?” She questioned as she stood up and stretched. Sloan gave her a blank look and she seemed to mimick his expression. Yet, he knew that her expression was genuine.
Phoebe really is clueless and has no idea why he’s doing this to her. Probably even more clueless on ‘doing’ a person.
“Do you not know what sex is?” Sloan tilted his head. Phoebe opened her mouth then closed it, turning even more pink than ever.
“Oh. I did not know that was a thing you wanted from me.
I mean, a child? Sloan we’re only eighteen and we’re not even married and much less counting each other! I-“ Phoebe started rambling, sitting down in the bed.
She hugged a leg up to her chest, her face very serious.
Sloan watched her in awe as she rambled on and on. Phoebe may have a way with words, but every so often he forgets that she takes so many things literally and is a rule follower.
Is it possible?
“Phoebe, I didn’t mean it like that.” Sloan said softly, inching closer to her. Phoebe looked up, her face full of doubt and worry.
“I don’t understand.” She muttered, looking at his hands then looking away hastily. He brushed the hair out of her face, kissing her forehead. Phoebe hid her face. “Why me?”
“Because you’re perfect just the way you are. And-“ Sloan couldn’t continue because Phoebe shushed him with a raised hand.
“I can’t bear children. I can’t even do that with you.” She said quietly. Sloan nodded, understanding.
“If you want, it can always be another time. When I’m courting you or. . . Or even married to you. I want you to be comfortable and-“ Sloan was shushed yet again.
He was flushed in the face from admitting the things he might do in the future. Courting her. Marrying her. His heart right there for her to crush at any moment.
“No. You don’t understand.” Phoebe stated so certainly that Sloan didn’t say anything and waited for Phoebe to explain. “I really can’t do that with you. It’s not possible. I’m. . .
“Do you know my name, Tamlor?” Phoebe questioned. Sloan felt a sharp pain in his chest. They were back to last name status.
“Phoebe Andre Yonderly” He said with a certainty. Of course he knew Phoebe’s name. It’s his duty to know. He should know. They’ve known each other for two years now.
“No. Phobus Andre Yonderly. Sloan, I’m a male.” Phoebe managed to get out. She has begun to go blurry eyed as tears threatened to spill. This struck Sloan as a surprise.
His partner, Phoebe, is a guy. He’s been crushing on a guy for the last two years without knowing. He ran a hand through his hair. Phoebe choked back a hiccup.
“I’m sorry. I should leave. I must disgust you like a slug among flowers. I-“ Phoebe started to stand up, only for Sloan to grab her wrist.
“No. You’re the prettiest flower in the garden and those who look down upon you are the jealous slugs.
Phoebe, Phobus, or whoever you want to be! I still love you for you all are the same person and I think of you no differently than I have known you for the two years we have shared as partners.”
Sloan took her hand and clasped it between both of his shaking hands. “Phoebe/Phobus Andre Yonderly, I love you.” He finished softly, fixing his gaze on her face.
Phoebe finally let a sob leave her mouth as she collapsed into Sloan’s embrace. He held her against his chest, patting her hair down.
Shushing her and whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Years of frustration and panic and held back feelings all poured out. She cried and cried as he comforted her.
For once, she finally felt safe in her own skin as she fell asleep in Sloan’s arms.
(A/N: Hope you enjoyed a little excerpt from my two favorite original characters!)