Flat

                                    

                                          
A/n: This has been sitting half finished in my drafts since 2021 holy FUCK. I'm again being self indulgent bc hello I'm not cis. Non binary reader, but trans mascs could see this as them too bc it involves binding. Tw for dysphoria. 
This was so annoying... 
Everything was so... curvy. 
Now if it was just the squishy anime thighs you wouldn't have minded but the chest too? Really? It'd always made you uncomfortable, but you could never do much about it back home. Things weren't so accepted back home. Now that you were away on a case in a whole other country, you could be whoever you wanted really, no one on the taskforce knew of you before now. They wouldn't know what you looked like before now. 
But it meant every morning when you got up, you had the struggle of finding some way to flatten everything out in order to appear the right way you wanted. And it just... never seemed to work. 
Layering sports bras? It made things smaller sure but never flat. Tape was bad for you so didn't even bother trying that, medial tape on the other hand was much safer. But it was so hard to figure out and you could never get it to stick right. Bandages are dangerous, even if they flattened things out. 
What were you meant to do here? Your options were limited. 
Most days you ended up layering and throwing something oversized over the top and hoping it worked. But every time it just... wasn't right. Each time you tried to ignore it and just keep working on the case no matter how uncommon you were. You bottled it up, you ignored it. 
But bottling things up isn't good for you, when you bottle things up they eventually spill. 
You found yourself standing in front of the mirror that morning, having gone through all your shirts trying to find something that hid everything. Your slouch was getting as bad as L's nowadays as you tried to hide everything with it. L was lucky he didn't have anything to hide...
After what felt like hours of digging through clothes and trying to layer and flatten, you were exhausted. Emotionally exhausted. 
Would you be doing this the rest of your life? Would you be desperately hiding your chest and squashing it under layers in clothes for the rest of your life? You didn't want that... you just wished you could stand up straight in a cool tank top and there's be absolutely nothing there. Flat enough to balance a damn level on it. 
It felt so hopeless. 
You hated it, you wanted to take scissors and chop them off if you could. 
You found yourself sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, surrounded by clothes, starring and feeling yourself slowly loose your energy. You were so tired... you were so done with this body. When you suddenly remembered what time it was, you freaked a little, you were late again. 
Taking a second to pull yourself together and stop yourself from crying, you didn't have time to change shirts again. It would have to be enough as it was, even if it didn't feel like it. Dragging yourself downstairs to the main room of taskforce you walked in mid meeting and sat down at your desk pretending you'd been there the whole time. But the glance L gave you as he was talking told you they he knew you were late. Damnit, he knew everything. 
Although... every time you were late he never told you off like he did the others. Maybe he could tell you were emotionally exhausted? You had no idea, but you weren't complaining. Trying to pay attention to the case and L's usual daily updates on it you could barely focus. Every time you thought too hard about your chest it was like you were hyper aware of it. You could FEEL it just sitting there on your body and it made you so uncomfortable. 
It was very distracting. So distracting that you didn't even notice when the meeting had stopped and everyone got to work until a few minutes after they did. Snapping yourself from your uncomfortable daze, you decided to just distract yourself with work. Surely all the brutal murders would distract you from your chest. As the day went on though, you found that wasn't the case. It seems that today was a particularly bad dysphoria day... you couldn't stop thinking about it. You felt so uncomfortable, you just wanted to be flat...
Eventually you could feel tears threatening to well up, and without anyone noticing you got up and left the room to pull yourself together. Standing out in the hallway, you took a breath and just stood there for a moment... bracing yourself. 
"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry... damnit (y/n) not during work" you mumbled to yourself. 
"Hey" 
The voice made you jump, and you quickly put on your 'I'm ok' face to not draw attention to yourself. When you turned, you found it was L. Shit, you're not in trouble for being late are you?
"H-hey! Sorry I just uh... needed to stretch for a bit" you replied. 
"Here" 
He held something out for you, something folded. You gave him a confused look. 
"I wasn't just going to give it to you in front of everyone and out you" he said. 
When he said the words 'out you' it suddenly clicked what he was holding. You took the fabric, unfolded it and sure enough... a binder. 
"H-how did-" 
"Your measurements are in your medical records" he answered. 
"Ok that and... you could tell?" You asked. 
"You take forever to get ready every morning and always wear clothes that hide your body. To anyone else they wouldn't think much of it but put it this way... I know someone back home who's kind of in the same position but, opposite" 
Is he referring to an AMAB non binary person? He must be. If L was helping another LGBT person then he probably picked up some stuff and that's why he figured you out.
You sighed, emotionally exhausted but finally able to feel some kind of joy in the situation. Without thinking or warning, you pulled L into a hug and squeezed him tight. At first he stiffened, not expecting it. But quickly he loosened up and returned the embrace. 
"Thank you" you muttered. 
"Just don't wear it too long, it's bad for your ribs" he added. 
"You do care for us lowly taskforce workers deep down huh?" 
"... maybe" he admitted. 
You knew he wasn't as cold and monotonous as he lead on...
"I've already changed your profile details, although if I've gotten anything wrong you can adjust them as necessary" he added. 
You just tightened your grip, hugging even harder. 
"Ok yes, you're welcome-" he wheezed. 
Letting him go so he could breathe, you gave him a slightly teary smile. 
"I could kiss you right now" you laughed. 
His cheeks dusted slightly pink, and a smile threatened to break across his lips. 
"Don't temp me" he muttered. 
"Oh no because if you kissed me that'd make you some kind of queer huh?" You teased. 
"That's not a problem. The fact I'm in a way your boss however..." 
Did he just admit to being an enby kisser? To hell with him being 'in a way your boss'. He accepted you, we actively helping you transition and was into people of your identity. 
You were kissing this man. Even if it was the last thing you did, you were kissing him for all he's done.