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“How about this one then?”
Waxer emerged from the fitting room, the most gorgeous long dress made out of fine Naboo silk donning the tanned skin. The colour of emerald green frock was form fitting, clinging onto Waxer’s body in all the right places with a slit up to the hip, featuring the muscular leg it reviled ever so seductively.
Boil having observed the various changes of clotting tried on by his partner had loved them all, naturally. Secretly drooling while getting the all too brief catwalk after each ensemble being presented by Waxer.
And Waxer, well guess he must’ve been trying on at least six or seven if not more before dresses finally, perhaps, finding the right one. Or at least, Waxer thought he had?!?
As it was, after their discussion with Boil, Waxer revealing his little secret to his partner, that he indeed wanted a dress rather than a suit for the upon coming gala event. And that perhaps, Waxer wasn’t as binary as he had always thought himself to be. Taught to be more likely ever since the very beginning on Kamino when decanted.
Becoming the epitome of a masculine soldier of the Grand Army.
But now, times had changed for all of them, especially the clones.
The war was over and the clones were free to pursue their lives as they saw fit. And this, yearning, the desire to become something different, something more, something having been growing inside of Waxer for a while before gathering the courage to talk to his partner, Boil about it.
Besides, Waxer wasn’t the first one by far to have similar ideas of whom they were and whom they wanted to become. As plenty of other clones having truly had discovered their true selves once embarking on their new life journey.
Thankfully Boil had been quite encouraging towards his partners needs. Having listened carefully to what Waxer wanted to tell him, but also Boil having done extensive research and chatted to a few vod who had figured out they were slightly different from the norm clones. The regs as it were. Sliding along the spectrum somewhere else than the let’s say regular clone did. If there even was such a thing as a regular clone any more or that idea simply having been a social construct they had all been moulded into to by their creators.
As even Boil himself having started to think that perhaps he too wasn’t exactly regular any more. Especially having certainly grown a new appreciation for the finer things in life, such as the silky dress donning his partner right now. The gorgeous green dress on Waxer…
Boil could not stop staring at Waxer.
The person standing in front of him in the fine dress, was simply breathtaking. And it wasn’t the dress which Boil was admiring any more. No, it was Waxer. Always had been, Waxer.
With a hint of makeup Waxer had put on just to go with the outfits he was trying on. Not wanting them out colouring himself. Not that they would. At least not in Boil’s opinion.
Or rather, the outfits they were trying on.
As Waxer did not want to be defined or constrained by pronouns either. Not since having made the discovery Waxer might really be something else, something more than a mere, he. Not that Waxer would belittle anyone wanting to be a he. But for Waxer, they suited the best. For now at least.
“You, look… perfect my darling.”
Boil sounded choked, his words failing him. As Waxer truly was beautiful. Always had been, but the dress surely accentuated the gorgeous being in front of him. The one belonging to Boil only.
“Are you sure and not saying that because of… well… reasons?”
Waxer still sounded slightly doubtful. Thinking perhaps this idea really wasn’t it after all. The dresses really wasn’t the thing Waxer wanted.
Boil sensing the myriad of bad feelings suddenly pooping up in his partner quickly closed the gap between them. Standing so close to his partner they were sharing the same air.
“You my love, are the most perfect being I have ever having the honour of calling my own, my sweet, sweet Waxer.”
Boil was near tears, his fingertips grazing the exposed skin on Waxer’s shoulders ever so gently with a hardly there touch. Trailing the path along the collarbone and down the plunging neckline. Halting there for a moment and staring into the most gorgeous eyes looking right back at Boil.
“And this colour, is perfect on you as well my love.”
Waxer felt a tear falling down their cheek, which Boil quickly wiped away.
“I love you Boil. You are the best partner anyone could have.”
“And I love you, my dear Waxer. Always and forever, whomever you decide to be.”
The two lovers shared a kiss, a soft gentle one, with the promise of… forever held inside of it. The dress forgotten, at least for the time being.