Chapter 11 #2
"That makes sense. And it makes sense that you'd want some physical distance from them to figure out what your relationships with True and her mate and their kids look like now that you've started building the next phase of your career without them.
You aren't their live-in nanny anymore, but it's hard to shift out of that role when you still live in that space? "
"Exactly.” Gillian flashes me a grateful smile, then she gestures to a plush off-white couch for us to sit and chat.
Wow, that’s a brave color choice for a household full of toddlers.
I almost don’t want to sit on it, until Gillian pulls me down next to her and I notice that it’s one of those stretchy washable covering things and the throw pillows are strategically places to cover faded stains from berries or markers or who knows what.
“I couldn't put it that clearly for True when we talked, but I think that's my issue with staying now.
How'd you figure out my weird family stuff so fast when I've been spinning like a whirlpool trying to put it into words? "
I shrug. "Different details, but I've been caught in the same general rut for years now too.
I moved home to heal after my accident. I needed the support and family around me then.
Only after so long as the invalid still roosting in my childhood bedroom, I've done just about all the healing I can do without leaving the nest."
Gillian smothers a laugh behind her hand.
"What?" I cock my head to examine the way her chromatic eyes sparkle with mirth. Indigo. I like that color on her, it reminds me of my feathers.
"Nothing, just reminds me of a nature video I saw where they throw baby puffins off cliffs to help them learn to fly and it seems awful to say it like that, but it doesn't hurt them and they need the jump start to figure out how their wings work."
I chuckle with her. "Yeah, well, in my case, my wing still doesn't work, but yeah. Same idea. No, don't look at me like that, my treasure, it's alright. Truly. I've made my peace with never flying again. The expectation that I must be pining away over it is precisely what I need to get away from."
"Still, that must be hard?" Gillain asks, she seems uncertain.
I shrug. "Honestly? The less visible injuries hurt more. I alluded to some of it last night, but I’m thinking we didn't come back here for more coffee?"
"I should hope not, with the way you were kissing me earlier…" Gillian snorts.
"Good. Because I want nothing more than to take you to bed and fuck you until you forget everything except that you're my treasure."
"Oh." Gillain sways toward me, looking startled at my candid declaration, but then her startled moue transforms into a wicked grin. “Is that so?”
"Mhm. But if we're going to do that, then you should know exactly what I mean when I say I'm not an alpha, okay?"
"Huh? Like, you're a trans omega?" Gillian asks.
It’s a logical guess with the bits I’ve already told her. I shake my head.
"No. Like I said, my accident left marks that aren't entirely obvious.
One of them is that I ruptured some stuff and between the injuries and the surgical repairs, I ended up with a total hysterectomy.
They left one ovary intact, but it's pretty much just there to regulate my hormones.
Which it does badly, as it turns out. No more heats and before I got on hormone replacement therapy there were a few irreversible changes.
Hence, I'm not an alpha, but sometimes people assume that since I smell a bit like one and I have an alpha-sized clit, I'll automatically be into pegging them.
Bullshit stereotypes, right?" I roll my eyes.
“Right.” Gillian nods and swallows hard.
"Anyway, my pheromones are weird because of the accident and that's relevant to us having sex in person for two reasons.
First, I'm infertile, so don't fall for me if you want bouncing baby balls of tentacles of your own.
And second, my clit looks like an alpha's.
It's still a clit, the plumbing didn't change.
So even if I could produce sperm like most alphas, there's nowhere for it to go. I don’t have a knot, it's just big.
Big enough to wrap some of your suckers around if you want to taste me.
" I almost chicken out on voicing that particular fantasy, but she’s looking at me with a warm understanding that makes it feel safe to share everything.
"Oh." Gillian licks her lips and glances toward her lap.
"So, do you still want to do this?" I arch a brow at her.
"Yes." Gillian licks her lips again, and nods down at herself. "Um, mine's store-bought."
"What?" I cock my head at her and hold my tongue so she can explain herself.
"My clit. It's...tides. That makes it sound like I have a strap I want to fuck you with and that's so not what I'm into." Gillian hides her face in her hands. Not fast enough to hide the lovely shade of chartreuse she turns when she's embarrassed though. Good to know.
"I know what you're into, treasure." I gently wrap my fingers around her wrists and tug her hands gently away from her face. "Look at me."
Gillian peeks at me between her fingers. She’s flushed and lovely, and I want to kiss away all her worries, but letting her tell them to me is probably a more effective strategy.
"I'm listening. Not judging. Just listening. Take your time." I loosen my grip on her wrists and caress her forearms.
Gillian takes a deep breath, then another, before she lowers her hands and offers them to me, palm up. I clasp them both, smiling when she does exactly what I expect and tangles her fingers with mine, gripping me tight.
"Okay. Yeah. Sorry. I'm not used to telling people all the sordid details. I mean, I'd probably tell you the pertinent parts since we're fucking?"
I dip my head in a measured nod. "We are, yeah, for as long as that's what we both want."
"I want." Gillian squeezes my hands. "Anyway, most of the time it's not super relevant, and my medical history is, ya know, private and all.
Just, it's the entire reason things are weird with Mom and why Trudy took me in and considering everything…
I feel like you should have the whole story before you judge True too harshly about the other day, you know? "
"I'm not sure that I do know. What does your mother have to do with your clit being store bought?
Cause I'm not coming up with any guesses that don't end in her finding out why some folks call a group of corvids a murder.
" That was not a turn I expected the conversation to take, but I rein in the reaction and focus on her.
"Sorry, that was uncalled for, tell me what you meant. "
"Ugh, yeah, she's not worth getting worked up about.
She never did anything that left any visible scars.
She just didn't particularly care for the idea of having an omega son when I presented, but she accepted that neither of us could control that.
It was when I told her that actually, her omega son was an omega daughter that she told me that she only has one daughter and she offered me a choice.
Basically, as long as we both pretended to forget I'd said anything about being trans, I got to stay under her roof until graduation.
So, I kept my mouth shut and True helped me plan to move in with her for college and once I got here she helped me get surgery and hormones, and I'll never be able to thank her enough for everything.
But as far as what you should know since we're fucking? The surgeon I went to was able to preserve my slick glands when she reconstructed my clit and pussy to look more like other omega girls.”
Gillian finally pauses to take a breath. I keep rubbing her arms soothingly. I know how hard it is to share this sort of thing, so I stay silent until she finishes saying what she needs to say. She makes a disgusted sound and continues.
“Ugh. Sorry. It's weird to talk about medical stuff like this.
Just…it's technically possible for me to have kids if I wanted to, but it would be high risk because of the surgical scars from moving things around so I opted to have my tubes tied as part of the surgery.
So, if I ever decided to take that risk, it would have to be by IVF.
So no surprise clutches for either of us, alright? "
"Alright. That's good. I'm not interested in being a mom. Fun aunt, any time, not a mom. What about you?"
"I'm...figuring that out, but no kids isn’t a dealbreaker as long as you're good with how close I am with True's kids."
I grin. "Oh, yeah, no, you date anyone from the rave and you're going to be spending half your social time counting tiny feathered heads to be sure they're all where they're supposed to be.
So long as they go back to someone else's nest when they need poop and puke cleaned up or they're cranky and tantruming.
" I pull a face and Gillian laughs, amused indigo sparkling around her eyes.
"You can hand them off to me for that stuff if we're babysitting, I don't mind the tough parts.
I like kids, I like working with them at my job, but I don't know if I want that to be my home life full time too. It feels weird to admit that, but it’s true, so that works? " Gillian smiles tentatively at me.
"Sounds like we're compatible, yeah," I agree.
"Yeah." Gillian looks thoughtful again, then she says, "So, given how we both responded to the pheromones at the diner, I'm going to guess all that about you not having heats anymore doesn't extend to, um, the not so natural type?"
"Are you asking to share a heat with me, Gillian?" I tease her to cover the mix of elation and concern that thrills through me at the implicit offer underlying those words. My inner raven is ready to alert, feathers flat to her body at the potential for this to be a miscommunication.
I don't know enough about octopus shifter culture to know if offering to share a heat means what it does among corvids. We mate for life. A natural heat means a potential clutch and sharing that with a lover is never offered lightly.
Even if we did just establish that there aren't going to be any tentacled chicks hatching in our nest. It's absolutely wild that a tiny part of me thinks that's too bad. That part can fuck off into the ocean depths forever.
Regardless of cultural differences, Gillian is clearly flirting with me, and I want to flirt back. Even if heat sex isn't as big of a commitment to her as it feels like to me.
"Do you want your dragon to procure a prescription for synthetic heat pheromones? Cause it's been absolute ages since I've felt that rush and I'd love to share a faux-heat with you.” I let my hands drift from her forearms to stroke her thigh.
"Oh, yes! For the solstice vigil? Octopus shifters have a tradition around that, connected to how static octopuses have a mating season that roughly corresponds to midwinter.
They give all of their life's energy to light the way through the coldest depths of winter for their eggs.
So to honor that tradition of a progenitor's blessing, we say it's lucky to start the year wrapped in an omega lover's heat. "
"That's lovely, my sweet. I'd be honored to bask in all your radiance for the longest night.
We have a similar tradition. Sort of. Our static cousins often mate for life.
So we say it's the mark of a good mating to keep the vigil with a lover who makes you wish even the longest night had more hours to spend together.
" There, now she knows what the offer means to my bird. At least a little.
"Ah, it's a big deal then? Too soon?" Gillian cups my cheek in her palm, and the way she's gazing into my eyes makes it feel like she understands that sharing a heat is bigger than what she intended to offer me.
"For right now, I just wish I could make tonight longer.
If that's everything we need to discuss?
" I forestall any more serious talk. We have a few more days before the solstice to decide on the finer details of how we're spending it.
I already know I want to greet the dawn wrapped in her embrace though.
"Yep. Want to see my room?" Gillian asks.
I lean in and kiss her. "Treasure, if you think I'm going to have any attention to spare for your room when I've only got eyes for you, naked in it, you've got entirely the wrong idea about what I have in mind. Lead the way."
Gillian licks her lips and freed from the constraints of public, I gently grasp her chin and tip her face up toward mine so I can lean in to lick the same pathway, turning the taste into a kiss and then a gentle nip when she tries to grind up against me.
"I'm going to fuck you in your bed, treasure, not on the couch."
"Yes, please." Gillian bites her lip adorably and grabs my hand to haul me out of the living room, past a big dining table, and through a chrome-accented white kitchen that looks like it could grace the pages of a magazine.
It's a damn good thing she's dragging me along after her because I'm not sure I wouldn't have faltered at the reminder of how out of my depth I am.
Then she opens the door and righteous indignation flares to consume all my feelings of inadequacy. It's a basement. Rickety old basement stairs down to her quarters that wouldn't be out of place in the rave's complex. Like she's not part of the family who lives here.
"What is it? I know, the stairs kind of give murder dungeon secret lair vibes, but it's a lot nicer once you actually get down the steps.
I swear. They used to be this really luxe carpeting, The kind that feels like clouds under your toes?
But there was a slime incident and the chemicals from the carpet cleaner really irritated my octopus.
I didn't want to tell True at first, but she noticed and tore up all the carpet down here for me.
It's just been impossible to get anyone from the city to install carry shifter friendly carpeting, let alone special order and install it. "
"Gillian you deserve to feel…" I want to fight her on that, to demand that she see her own worth, but from the stubborn jut of her chin, she isn’t budging on this. It would be beyond ridiculous to ruin our night fighting about a carpet that has nothing to do with me. I let it go.
“Right now, I feel horny, Dragon.” Gillian rolls her eyes at me. "Now, enough feelings talk. I want to feel like you can't keep your hands off me. I want my head so full of desire there's no room for thinking about anything."
"Well, then. Take me to your bed, treasure.” I reach for her hand and she leads me to her bed.