llaeyro: (r/s)
[personal profile] llaeyro
Title: New Year, New Me
Pairing: Teddy/James Sirius
Rating: R for language
Warnings: genderfluid/genderqueer Teddy, androgynous Teddy, crossdressing James, mentions of well-meaning but misguided parents, first person, lots of (purposeful) pronoun confusion
Word Count: ~3.7k
Summary: When Harry and Ginny send James to Teddy’s flat so that Teddy can talk to him about ‘dressing appropriately’, the evening doesn’t go at all how James had expected.
A/N: This is an interpretation of the incredible [livejournal.com profile] shiftylinguini’s absolutely stunning art piece, Hand-me-downs. Although I stuck to the background information given in the summary of the original piece, I beg you to go check out the art first and view it as the artist originally intended. This is only my humble interpretation. I hope you like this, Miss Guini ♥♥

Also on AO3




I don’t want to be here.

It’s a strange feeling. Usually, I love spending time with Teddy. Not that I get to do it often, he’s so busy with work and friends, but things are always so easy between us when we are together. Whenever he comes over Nan’s for Sunday lunch, we’ll sneak off for a chat about Quidditch and nonsense, but we’ve never spoken about this.

We wouldn’t be speaking about it tonight if it wasn’t for Mum and Dad’s meddling. They think it’s important to get this ‘phase’ sorted before trials start for the new Quidditch season. I know they are trying to help but I don’t need their help.

I need their understanding.

Teddy already knows. I know they told him, but I don’t know what he made of it. I don’t know he’s not going to slap me the minute he sees me. Well, he invited me round. That’s got to mean something, right? Maybe. Probably not. Merlin, why can’t I just be normal?!

Mum and Dad begged me tonight to dress ‘normal’. I did, for the most part, but I couldn’t help adding a stupid, pointless little bit of rebellion in there. My mid-calf biker boots are designed for women, not that it’s immediately obvious. The heel is low enough that they could be mens, but I know that they’re not, and that’s enough.

That’s the last stair, I can see Teddy’s front door. I could have Apparated up the block, sure, but I wasn’t exactly eager to get here. The plastic handle of the bag holding the beers is cutting into my fingers, so I switch hands and knock on the door. I ask myself yet again why I’m going to all this effort for yet another bollocking about my wardrobe.

The door opens and… that is not what I was expecting. Is that Ted? I mean, it must be Ted, it’s Ted’s flat, and he’s got Ted’s blue hair and Ted’s hazel eyes but he’s… Well, he’s not exactly a conventional ‘he’, right now.

“Hey,” Ted smiles, easily, “Glad you found it alright. Come in.”

I’m still taking him in. His hair’s much longer than I’ve ever seen it, past his shoulder and holy hell he’s wearing a bra! As he turns, I can clearly see it through the huge arm-hole of his vest top. The top itself is short in the body, like it was designed for a woman.

I’m still standing in the doorway like an idiot, and now Teddy’s pausing to look back at me curiously. “Come on,” he chuckles, waving me in again, “I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, so come and get comfy.” He saunters around the corner, and I dumbly follow, shoving the door closed behind me.

As he takes the beers from me and reels off a list of drinks on offer, I notice that his voice is different, too. It’s not like it’s feminine, not really. It’s just not quite as deep as usual. Which is the real Teddy? Is he putting this on for me or is the Ted we usually see the act? Maybe he’s just trying to put me at ease, actually. Maybe he’s taking the piss… Maybe he’s trying to get me to see what a prat I look wearing the ‘wrong’ clothes.

“Jamie…” his voice is soothing, concerned. “I can see your mind is working a mile a minute right now but you need to give me time to explain. This is the real me, and I will fill you in on all the details, when we have a drink. So, beer, wine or spirits?”

I hate beer. I only brought it because Dad made me. “Uh… wine?”

Ted smiles, like it was the hoped-for answer. “Red—no wait, no red. White or rosé?”

“Rosé, please.” Ted goes off to the kitchen, and I find myself drawn to the photos on the sideboard. There’s a few of family, of me, that I’ve seen before so I don’t pay them much attention. It’s the ones of Ted and his friends that I can’t stop staring at. In this one, Ted’s got short hair, even shorter than I usually see it, but he’s wearing a skirt with leggings. In another, fuck me… In that one, he’s got tits. He must’ve morphed them, because they look real. I hear Ted come back and hurriedly turn around, pretending I wasn’t staring.

He steps right up to me, pressing the wine glass into my hand. His fingers linger against the back of my hand for a moment and his gaze fixes on mine. For something so brief, it’s rather intense and I find myself releasing a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding when he finally steps away. He sits on the sofa and gestures for me to join him.

I go over and sit down, busying myself with taking a sip of wine because I don’t know what to say.

“Is… Is this white zinfandel?” It’s my favourite, and the way Ted’s smiling and nodding, I get the feeling he somehow knew that. I start to relax, a little. This is Teddy. Ted knows me, even if I’m now realising I don’t know him at all. I don’t even know if he’d want me thinking of him as a him. I don’t understand, but I want to. I think that, maybe, for the first time in my life, I might have found someone who could understand me. And they were right under my nose all along.

“Teddy, what’s…” I trail off, because he’s held his hand up to stop me, but his smile is understanding.

“Just let me explain, yeah?” He takes a deep breath. “Phew, where to start?” For the first time, I notice that he’s nervous about this. It doesn’t seem like anyone in the family knows about this side of Teddy. If Mum and Dad knew, I’m certain I wouldn’t have been sent here.

“Let’s start from the beginning. Hi, what’s your name?”

I stare at him blankly for a moment, staring at his offered hand before gingerly shaking it and uncertainly replying: “Uh… James?”

“Nice to meet you, James, I’m Theo.”

“Theo?”

Ted shrugs. “I’m called Teddy because my parents named me Edward, but it can also be short for Theodore or Theodora. So, Theo is a gender-neutral name. It suits who I am inside better than Teddy, but without doing away with my other identity altogether. I didn’t fancy Edwina.” He makes a face, but my returning smile is weak. My mind is too busy racing to process this.

“So… this is you? Theo.”

“Yeah. Well… sort of. I don’t always wear bras and jeans. Sometimes I look more typically feminine, sometimes masculine, but everyone at work calls me Theo.”

“So what do you wear?”

Teddy grins. I mean, Theo. Theo grins and stands up, holding out his, I mean… their… Theo’s hand? Oh, whatever. There’s hands and there’s pulling and there’s leading me into the bedroom. I’m steered to sit on the bed and Te—Theo’s yanking open all the wardrobes and standing there proudly, waiting for my reaction.

I’m on my feet and walking forward, I can’t help it. Fuck me, it’s magnificent. The colours, the materials, the textures, the cuts, the sheer variety! Of course I know that Teddy’s worked in fashion for years, but I never expected this.

“Want to step into something more comfortable?”

“What?” I stare at Theo dumbly, and just get a huge grin back.

“I reckon we’re about the same size. Go on, show me the real you.” There’s something in the way Theo’s eyes raked up and down me then, but I shake it off and turn my attention back to the wardrobe. There’s so much choice… It’s got to be a skirt and top combo. I can wear trousers any damn day of the week and I want to show that I can coordinate. I pull out a few skirts, swirling them on their hangers, checking out the cut of them. I haven’t quite got the confidence for some of the shorter ones just yet. I’ve got it down to two, but I can’t quite decide.

“Try the pink one,” Theo says, taking both skirts from me and freeing them from their hangers. “It’s got a great swish to it. One of my favourites, actually, so don’t get too attached.” Theo winks at me playfully and I can feel my cheeks heating up.

As my fingers pop the button free on my jeans and move to my zip, I freeze. Shit. The boots weren’t my only little rebellion when I got changed to come over here.

“Do you want me to…” Theo starts, moving towards the door.

“No,” I say hastily, reminding myself that this is Teddy, standing there wearing a bra for fuck’s sake, and he isn’t going to give a damn. I shove my jeans past my bum and sit down on the bed to kick them off. They’re baggy, so they easily slide off over my boots. I can’t help looking up at Theo, standing there still holding the yellow skirt, eyes wide and bottom lip caught between teeth. His—Their gaze, is on my lacy white knickers and, oh fuck, I know the bulge there must be obvious.

“It’s alright to get… excited about trying on clothes. Especially skirts.”

I nod and smile back, but it’s nothing to do with the skirt. It’s Ted, being Theo, standing there with long blue hair and blue armpit hair and a fucking god damn bra on, looking… fucking incredible and being so fucking understanding and just, owning it… Right, stop being an idiot. Put the fucking skirt on and stop swearing at yourself so much.

I hook my feet into the waistband and stand to pull it up. My top’s too long, it’s ruining the flow of the skirt, so I tuck it in for now. Theo gestures for me to twirl, finger on lips thoughtfully.

“It’s a good fit, but…” I’m steered back to sitting on the bed, Theo kneeling before me. “To really get the most movement out of this style, you need a heel. May I?” I must look nervous as I hesitate. I fucking love these boots. “I can change them back after, promise.”

I nod and with a flick of a wand, the heels on my boots are growing. Before I have a chance to panic the fact that I’ve never worn heels before, I’m dragged to my feet, Theo’s hands staying around my wrists when I wobble.

“Alright?”

“Uh, yeah, this is… new.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Theo smiles, and I truly believe it. The grip is firm, even around the skirt still clutched in their hand, as Theo walks backwards, slowly guiding me. “That’s it, let your hips go loose, take smaller steps than usual and try to keep it to heel-toe.” We walk across the room slowly, Theo’s eyes on me all the time, and I can feel a blush creeping up again. “It’ll get easier with confidence,” Theo promises, making sure I have my balance before letting go of me and turning to root through the cupboards.

“So, how is work with… you? Are they, like, cool with it? Or are some people a bit…”

“Everyone’s cool with it,” Theo smiles over their shoulder. “Let’s just say I’m in the right industry.”

“Doesn’t it ever get confusing, though? When you have like new people, or people contracted in and that.”

“Yeah,” Theo laughs, “There are a few funny stories to that effect. People have been sent down to my department to speak to ‘the guy with the blue hair’, except that day I’m wearing boobs.” I can’t help but laugh at Theo’s easy grin and the fact that the voice is definitely sounding feminine now. I’m not sure Theo’s even noticed. “It’s not generally too bad. I mean, it took a bit of getting used to at first.” Theo throws a few tops onto the bed. “At first I didn’t like people labelling me as ‘he’ or ‘she’, but that’s a really hard thing for people to get their heads around. Even the most well-meaning and understanding people will slip up here and there. I don’t care so much now, though, about pronouns. I guess, if one person is constantly using 'he', someone will pull them on it. I'm generally happy as long as they call me Theo.”

Well, that’s a relief. I mean, I’ll try to keep things neutral, but it’s nice to know I don’t need to give myself an aneurysm over it. “Do… you think you’ll ever be ready for the family to meet Theo?”

She turns to me with a sad smile. “I’ve been ready for four years, James. But they’re not.”

I know she’s right. The circumstances around me being here prove it.

“Come on, let’s finish off your look. What do you fancy?”

I lean down to sort through the clothes, grabbing a simple white blouse with short sleeves.

“Cute,” Theo says, shaking it off the hanger and undoing the buttons. “Although, with this cut, it would fit better with a bra on.”

My pulse quickens. I’ve thought about wearing a bra, before. I even managed to get hold of one of Lily’s once. I lost my nerve before trying it on, sneaking it back into her room before anyone noticed.

“I’ve got some padded ones, if you want. Or you can try it without.”

“No, I’d like to try one. If—If you’re sure.”

Theo moves to a bag by the door, humming thoughtfully as they rifle through the contents. “With your build and height, I think a B will suit you best, but you can try a different one if you like. I purloined these for tonight, they’re part of a new range we’ll be offering soon.”

At first, it looks like an ordinary bra but there’s nowhere to put a boob. The back is flat, the cup filled.

“Put it on backwards, so that you can see to do it up, then twist it round after. It’s much easier until you get used to the catches.”

“So, how come you’re making these? Can’t imagine there’s much demand,” I ask as I follow the instructions. It takes me a few attempts, the first one comes unhooked when I get the second one in, but I don’t think I’ve embarrassed myself too much.

“We’re doing a whole new line which defies gender stereotypes.” His voice is deeper, again. I’m sure he doesn’t always notice. “We’re trying to cater for everyone; genderfluid, genderqueer, drag, crossdressers, camp, butch, trans and people who don’t identify with any label. It’s my project, my baby.”

“It sounds incredible.” I’m putting the blouse on now, delighting in the strangeness of not being able to see to do up the button just below the bra.

“So, are we done? Or do we need a few more accessories?”

“What do you have?” I’m slightly embarrassed by how eager I sound, but Theo doesn’t seem phased.

“Tights, stockings, wigs, jewellery, make up…”

“I’d love to try a wig.” It’s another unfulfilled fantasy of mine. The number of times I’ve stood in front of the mirror, frustrated with my short hair ruining the illusion. I’ve tried to grow it, but it always seems to mysteriously stop at the length Mum likes it at. “And maybe a bit of make up. Nothing too heavy.”

Theo points his wand at a small case by the door, next to the bra bag, and it unshrinks, nearly reaching the ceiling. The door opens and it’s full of faceless mannequin heads, all sporting white hair in different styles.

“At the moment they’re all spelled so that when you put them on they match your natural hair colour, but I can tweak that if you want.”

I pick out a long one with a slight wave, graduated around the front with a side parting, but Theo puts it aside.

“Let’s do make up first, before the wig’s getting in the way.”

Theo turns the seat around, facing away from the dresser, and I sit down. “We don’t want to ruin the big reveal.” There’s a lot of shuffling of bottles and things behind me, but I sit still and wait. I’m quite nervous, I hope I like it. I trust Theo.

“So,” Theo says, settling in front of me and arranging a few floating candles around us to get the best light, “Simple, natural, feminine?”

“Perfect,” I grin, and close my eyes as he starts to apply foundation with a soft sponge. It’s quite relaxing, until we get onto the finer details. Theo’s got me making the strangest faces, pulling my skin taut when necessary, eyes open, eyes closed, mouth like this, like that… I must look ridiculous but Theo doesn’t seem phased. They’re just focussed on their work. I choose the lipstick, a pink just a shade lighter than my lips, with a slight gloss to it. Theo brings the wig over, carefully positioning and perfecting it before stepping away with a pleased grin. I can see the wig’s colour changing from white to black at the edges of my vision.

“Done?” Theo asks.

“Yeah. Uh, I think so. I don’t know, I’ve never dressed so… completely, before.”

“Time for the big reveal?”

“Absolutely.” I sound sure, but the butterflies in my stomach are going nuts and the bra is irritating my skin. I keep fiddling with the straps.

Theo closes one of the wardrobe doors and, with a tap of a wand, it’s a mirror. I step in front of it.

Well, fuck.

Fuck. I… I’m speechless. I can’t stop smiling, but at the same time I want to cry. This is what I’ve wanted, all along. To just feel… right, just for a little while. I know that Theo’s right behind me, looking in the mirror over my shoulder, but I can’t take my eyes off my own reflection as I turn and twist. The heel really brings out the shape of my calves. The silly, thick purple socks are slightly unfortunate, but I rather need them to stop my boots from slipping down. I can see why Theo loves this skirt, it’s got a lovely movement to it. I step backwards and forwards, twisting slightly, watching it swish. The bra makes the blouse fit perfectly, it even comes in slightly at the waist, and the wig is just how I imagined it. The make up… I didn’t dream I could look like this. Theo’s really managed to soften my jaw and give my eyebrows a little more shape. I just feel so feminine. Well, apart from the hairy legs.

“You look amazing, Jamie.” Theo’s hands are on my biceps, chin coming to rest on my shoulder.

“Jamie’s not here, right now,” I grin, and it’s amazing to say it, because it’s true. For the first time, it’s really true.

“Oh,” Theo smiles, “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Theo.” I swear Theo’s voice is deeper again, just like Teddy’s, and hands are coming down, circling my waist.

“Hi Theo,” I say, barely above a whisper. “I’m Emma.” I’ve wanted to say that for about two years.

“Well, Emma,” Theo says into my neck, eyes fixed on mine in the mirror, “I know a lot of interesting people who would love to meet you, when you feel ready. There’s no rush, but I just want you to know… This is only the first step to embracing the real you.”

“I—” I know what I want to say, but I don’t want to upset Theo. I don’t want him thinking that I’m going to treat this like some hobby or a weird fetish. “I’d like that but… sometimes James still wants to come out, too. Maybe someday I’d like to be Emma all the time, but—”

Theo’s grip loosens, but he doesn’t break contact, stepping around to face me. “That’s okay. You don’t have to be one thing, all the time, to all people.” We’re holding hands, now, and I can’t look away from Theo. I never want to leave this flat, leave this uninhibited acceptance and limitless understanding. “Sometimes, you just have to please people. Most folks aren’t as lucky as me when it comes to an understanding workplace. And our family are loving and open-minded enough that, with some gentle education, we may be able to be a little more honest with them in the future.”

“Quidditch, though—”

“I know, you’re not going to get much understanding there,” Theo sighs.

“I can’t even shave my legs, the newspapers would have a field day.”

“Well, I can help with that. Draco’s lab is working on some potions to compliment our new line. He’s developed timed and wash-off, temporary hair removal cream. So Emma can get her pins out but James doesn’t have any awkward explanations the next day.”

I squeeze the back of Teddy’s hand, hard enough to make him frown. “Sorry,” I explain, “I just have to check you’re real. This is all just too good to be true. I mean, look at me!” I can’t help twirling, but then I wobble and Theo catches me. We just laugh, and I can’t believe I don’t feel embarrassed, but it just feels so easy. His hand is around my waist, the other in mine, as if we’re ready to dance. We’re just looking at each other, and Theo’s giving me this easy, to-die-for-smile that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, but I know I want to see a lot more of.

“I’m looking,” he mutters, wistfully. Theo starts slightly, looking kind of awkward before clearing his throat and straightening out her bra. He gives me a bashful smile, starting to relax again. “I’m looking forward to getting to really know you, Emma.”

“Likewise, Theo.” I grin, “Let’s start now.” And with that I turn, linking our arms and marching us both from the room. “Now, what happened to that wine?”

Fin

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