Title: ami mizuno's dance of sexual-confusion
Fandom: Sailor Moon
Summary: Ami isn't quite sure if she's a lesbian, or not, despite the mental hoops she jumps through to find out.
Notes: Not quite where I was headed with his fic. Was supposed to be kinky cross dressing smut, but turned into Ami trying to figure out and accept what is as it is. So, more about sexual identity than anything, damn it. Ami/Zoisite. PG-13; about 1,070 words.
When Ami first thought she might be a lesbian she was fourteen. The girl was an upperclassman from a High school in a different district, with curly copper-blonde hair and wicked green eyes. She looked a little like her best friend, Makoto, which made things a little awkward there for a while, until Ami realized that she wasn't attracted to any other females, which was just odd.
She was interested, vaguely, in plenty of men, of course; mainly for their intellect (so she claimed), including a respectful curiosity about Chiba until he started going out with Usagi. Her brain smoothly cut off that line of thought like it had never existed. She had even fancied Motoki for a time, if only because he always listened to her over milkshakes when she complained about missing a problem in math.
So she wasn't a lesbian, but she couldn't really be heterosexual, could she? Not if the sight of a female – even only one, single female – was enough to catch up her attention, make her belly twist and her cheeks to flush. Her analytical brain had a field day dissecting this troublesome conundrum, and for a time she thought that maybe the intensity of her crush on the girl out ruled her sedate preference for the rougher gender, and that she really was a dyke, but finally settled on the label that she was merely bi-curious, while staying predominately straight.
It was an exhausting mental marathon that ran her to distraction while she worried and agonized over her deviant sexuality that had caused Makoto to make her cookies and Rei to casually mention good meditation techniques for when life was getting a bit too much and you just felt like screaming and publicly embarrassing yourself.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Ami settled back into normalcy.
The second time Ami really, really thought she might be a complete convert was when she stopped paying attention to boys so much, and she asked her mother how she felt about homosexuals, just in case this wasn't a fleeting thing.
That had been an awkward situation, without a doubt.
But Ami had wanted to check, just in case her mother harbored bad feelings over the fact that her husband had left her for a man. Ami didn't think she did, since they often had large family gatherings and Ami had often seen her mother and her father's lover in a corner trading dirty secrets and complaining about the government. The fact of the matter was that her mother was nearly insulted that Ami should think such a thing.
Ami breathed a great, heaving sigh of just-in-case relief.
This was right around her seventeenth birthday, and her upperclassman crush was no longer a High School girl, but a College Girl, which somehow made her all the more appealing, and the entire matter all the more sinful and delicious, for some inexplicable reason.
Having never allowed herself to read romance novels as a young girl, Ami wondered if this was all her repressed romanticism, or a hidden love for scandals that she had never allowed herself to be distracted by.
Or maybe, simply, it was that having blue hair wasn't a quiet enough statement of teenage rebellion, but her entire body and apparently her heart and silly mental facilities were now rebelling against everybody except that one girl. Her body very much didn't want to rebel against her College Girl, unless it was in a straining, panty, sweaty kind of way and oh dear Lord, Ami was a dirty, dirty pervert.
The third time was only the third time because she adamantly refused to admit that she was College Girl-sexual. Because she couldn't, obviously, be only attracted to one girl whose name she didn't even know. Ami's logical mind simply wouldn't have it, refused to.
It was too clichéd to have fallen in love with a husky voice and elegant hands, and long legs peaking out of a pleated skirt. Even married couples had improper thoughts about other people.
The first thing that Ami set up in her college dorm was her chess set, and she played herself to distraction, setting herself opposite her ludicrous thoughts and ideas. Sadly, her ludicrous thoughts and ideas trounced her soundly each time.
Finally, she conceded to the inevitable, and left her dorm to find College Girl, and discover College Girl's name. She wasn't going to only be sexually attracted to a girl whose name she didn't know, after all.
It was certainly a testament to Ami's inner turmoil and frustration and the fact that she practically embodied mental and emotional and sexual exasperation that she marched right up to College Girl's dorm room and knocked on the door.
College Girl answered, and all Ami's brain functions quite suddenly and treacherously abandoned her.
"Hi," College Girl said, and Ami answered back, inanely, "Hi," before running away.
It was, perhaps, Ami's most mortifying moment.
After that, Ami stopped thinking she was a lesbian, and started believing it.
It wasn't long lasted, however, because College Girl started seeking her out, and distracting her even from thoughts of good heavens, what will my friends think? I've seen them naked, and slept at their houses and they'll probably think I have designs on them, or something until Ami and College Girl fell into bed together, and Ami discovered that College Girl wasn't really College Girl after all.
But then again, could she really be heterosexual? Surely not, because College Girl was College Girl most of the time, except that she really wasn't, but Ami had been attracted when College Girl wore lipstick and blouses. But she couldn't be a lesbian, surely, because she was also attracted to this, smooth planed chest and firm muscles and a slightly stubbly jaw rasping her smooth shoulder. And could she be bisexual when College Girl was both neither nor either?
Ami figured that College Girl would always be College Girl despite the gender, and that her brain would hurt and explode if she tried to rationalize this. She loved who she loved and was attracted to College Girl in all of College Girl's apparently many forms. Even thinking that made her dizzy.
She resigned herself to a life of sexual confusion and one mystery even her logic couldn't solve. "You know," she said, stretching out beneath her cross dressing lover, "my life is really quite amazingly weird."
Her cross dressing lover shimmied out of – his? her? – slinky panties and shut her up with a kiss.