Work Text:
Clancy always thought that no matter how much Torchbearer loves him, he would never fully understand him.
Well, until one day.
He wasn’t doing too well. Maybe even really bad. His dysphoria was quite intense that day, and the memories of Dema in his mind were still within the reach of one anxious episode. He doesn’t remember a lot from that night, only blurred moments of him crying and pushing Torch, who was trying to help, away. God, he still feels guilty about that…
Later that night, Torch decided to tell him about something special, something personal. He introduced him to the traditions of his native tribe, and to the concept of two-spirited people.
Torch’s ancestors never viewed the physical body as the highest form. Instead, they always cherished and emphasized character and spirit. They believed that some people were gifted with carrying both female and male spirits in their body, and those people could embrace it in many different ways, such as taking up the roles traditionally assigned to the opposite gender.
Over the centuries and through the Bishops’ colonization of Trench, some traditions faded away, but two-spirited individuals never stopped being a part of the culture. They continued existing, in one way or another.
And Torchbearer was one of them.
Nowadays, gendered division wasn’t inherent to Banditos either – they all worked and lived to fulfill one goal, without distinguishing between “female” and “male” roles in their society. But the ancient teaching with roots dating back to Torch’s forefathers was still alive and honored.
And even though Torchbearer never faced any judgment from his community, he was still awfully familiar with the feeling of weird dissonance between your body and mind. He still knew the sound of voices that would suspend in the air at night, telling young Torch that there was something wrong with the way he felt.
And he still could understand Clancy much more than anyone else in Dema or the whole continent of Trench, and he wanted him to know that.
***
Sometimes people might get really depressive after a top surgery. Torch was pretty sure that was the case with Clancy. And he knew that it’s a normal thing that passes with time, replaced by joy and long-awaited satisfaction, but he couldn’t stand watching his boy suffer.
Torch has been taking care of Clancy for the past few weeks, which he certainly enjoyed. He was truly happy to be the one he could fully rely on, even if Clancy himself was slightly ashamed of not being able to take care of himself.
But some days were definitely worse than just feeling uncomfortable or vulnerable.
“Babe, can you come here for a second? I need your help,” Torch shouted.
No answer.
“Hey, Clance, where are you?” He stopped what he was doing and went to find him. His mind was starting to fill with worry.
Torch checked the small bathroom, then went in the direction of their bedroom. He was already approaching the door frame when he heard faint sniffles that made him lurch into the room frantically.
Clancy froze in front of the mirror with nothing but scar tape on his bare chest, glaring at his reflection, his eyes watery.
“Hey, hey, shh-” Torch rushed to him, but quickly stopped himself, realizing that touch might not be what his partner needs right now.
“Come here, baby. What’s wrong? Please, talk to me.” He gently placed his hand on Clancy’s shoulder.
Torchbearer waited. Suddenly, Clancy sobbed sharply.
“I feel bad…” He was stuttering. “I- I feel wrong.” He turned a little towards Torch as he slid his hand onto Clancy’s shoulder blade. He dropped his head on the crook of Torch’s neck.
“I know, I know I’m supposed to feel good and be happy about it, but for some fucking reason I feel so bad.” He wept, feeling a growing wet spot on Torch’s shirt.
“You don’t have to feel anything. You don’t owe any kind of emotion to anyone.”
Torch encircled his hands around Clancy, gently pulling him closer.
“You are allowed to be sad, Clancy. It is okay.”
He whined into Torch’s shoulder, his arms aimlessly hanging on the sides. His head was pounding with anxiety and he could barely feel the soothing pressure of his lover’s hands behind a wall of aching thoughts.
“I didn’t know that changing hurt so much. Even if it’s for the better.”
Torch knew this feeling.
He stroked through Clancy’s short hair, feeling the stiffness and tension slowly leave his body.
“I’ll never be the same again. And I’ll never be the way I was when you fell for me.” He sniffled softly.
“Hey, I love you, and it was never because of your body. I love you, Clancy. I promise.”
Torch tried to look at him, but the attempt only made him curl in on himself more.
“Clancy, my dear, it makes me so happy to see you making steps towards something you’ve always dreamed of. Even when it’s uneasy, I’m here for you.”
He paused.
“And I love the way you look now. You are really, really beautiful.”
He smiled, and this time Clancy answered with the look of endearment in his still wet eyes.
“How about I help you with the scar care?”
Clancy nodded, and a sheepish smile slowly took over his face.
“Okay, sit down on the bed, let me just get your stuff real quick.”
Torch returned from the bathroom in under a minute, approached Clancy and dropped the supplies on the bed. He crouched in front of him.
He started carefully removing the tape and cleansing the area.
They didn’t talk. Clancy quietly admired his boyfriend’s diligent hands. I must be blushing so hard right now, he thought.
“Done!” Reported Torch with a wide-eyed grin, placing his hands on Clancy’s shoulders. “You will have to take a shower, and then we can apply some fresh tape.”
Clancy stared at him in pure awe. He was so grateful to have this man in his life.
Torchbearer knelt down in front of him, slowly. His hands trailed from Clancy’s shoulders down to his arms, light pressure being comforting enough for Clancy to keep holding the eye contact. Torch squeezed both of his hands and gently leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on one of Clancy’s scars.
“Did that hurt?”
“Not at all.”
The scars have been mostly numb since the day of removing the compression bandage. Sometimes they hurt when Clancy accidentally turned or bent over in a way that was stretching them out, but except for that, he barely had any sensation in them. But right now the warm, tender touch on them felt like millions of electric impulses rushing through his body.
“Please, don’t stop.”
Torch chuckled and leaned in to kiss another scar, trying to remain as careful with it as possible. He pressed little kisses against Clancy’s chest one by one, tracing the lines that marked a new beginning in his life, a new chapter where he finally gets to be himself.
Clancy tilted his head back, allowing his eyes to close and his body to embrace this new sensation. He relaxed more and more, his body started slowly sliding down the edge of the bed until his head touched the mattress. Torch climbed onto Clancy’s laps, continuing the kisses and caressing his sides.
Clancy let out a stifled whimper, and Torchbearer lifted up to look at him. He almost connected their foreheads. “I love you, Clancy,” he whispered softly.
“More than you could ever imagine.”
It seemed like Torch found a strange satisfaction in seeing his loved one flushed and embarrassed to the point he certainly wasn’t used to.
“Fuck, Torch, stop it, I can’t-” he didn’t finish his sentence, cut off with an eager kiss. It was better. Much better than all of this sappy yapping he still couldn’t get fully comfortable with. But he really hoped to eventually reach a point in his life where he could stand hearing an “I love you” without feeling the need to deny or run away.
Torch pulled away first and admired his Clancy for a couple moments, which felt like a stare directly into his murky soul.
He then rested his head on Clancy’s chest, right above the scars.
“Hey, careful, they’re still not fully healed,” he reproached half-heartedly.
Clancy ran his hand through Torch’s curls, like they both loved. He could almost feel a grin on that pretty face.
“I love you too.”