Work Text:
Marc idly walked throughout the clothing store, almost immediately heading to a section that featured punk clothes.
"These are so cool!" He murmured underneath his breath, looking at all the options. Eventually, he stopped in front of a skirt. It had a red plaid design with two black belts dangling from it on either side.
"That matches the clothes you usually wear," His boyfriend commented from behind him, casually flicking the chains hanging at Marc's side.
Marc hummed, picking up the skirt and looking it over. It really was cool and matched his usual fashion sense. Although, he had never worn a skirt before.
"Hey, whatever you want to do," The boy behind him reassured, "Whatever the decision, I'll support it."
Marc chuckled, leaning back to press a kiss to his boyfriend's cheek, "Thanks, Luka."
That had been months ago. He still had the skirt in his closet.
Marc still had the vague desire to wear it. But considering that it was something he bought with the support of his now ex-boyfriend, it felt incredibly awkward to even think about it.
But it wasn't as if the break up was messy. They were even still friends! So there was really nothing stopping him from doing it then, right?
---
Marc ignored all the looks he was gathering as he walked into the school, nervously gulping. The skirt swished with each brisk step he took towards where his current boyfriend was sitting on the stairs.
Nathaniel looked up from his phone, giving a small smile towards Marc as he approached. "Hey. New outfit? You look nice."
Marc smiled, blush appearing on his face quickly as he took a seat next to him, "Thanks. I really just did it on a whim."
His boyfriend gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "However you decided to do it, that doesn't change how good you look."
Marc became even more flustered, burying his face in Nathaniel's shoulder, the redhead amused at his reaction.
The entire day after that had been filled by people giving compliments about his skirt, even students he had never talked to or even interacted with before. It was a little nerve wracking, having all this new attention on him out of nowhere, despite all of it being positive.
It's not like it was a big change either. The patterns and style still matched his usual genre of clothing. Honestly, it all felt like performative activism with how insistent everybody was about him wearing skirts more often. Like they were more concerned as being seen as a supportive figure rather than how Marc actually felt about the outfit.
The next day, Marc decided to go back to his normal clothes, thinking that nothing big would happen because of his choice yesterday.
He was wrong.
---
It had been a week since Marc had worn that damn skirt and he was considering burning it to try and get rid of the bad luck it seemed to curse him with.
No matter how much he maintained that everything was fine, everyone else seemed to be stuck in the mindset that he was secretly in love with the idea of wearing skirts and dresses and the only reason he wasn't doing so was his fear of what everyone would think.
What type of utter bullshit was that?!
Of course Marc knew that it was fine to wear clothing items like those! Everyone had been telling him that for the past week ! He just doesn’t want to wear them all the time! But for some reason, that fact was not getting through to people’s heads!
It had somehow escalated past just encouraging him. People had started bringing him skirts that they had bought specifically for him. Somehow, in some unspoken agreement, most, if not all, of them were pastel colors or just generally something that would be considered cute. If anything, that just confused him more than anything as he continued to reject the articles of clothing.
He wore punk fashion. That was the only style he had ever worn to school. How did they arrive at the conclusion that he would want cute stuff? It felt like they were assuming his personal preferences based on something else other than his usual outfits.
Marc had a slight suspicion of why but he wasn’t going to assume anything.
---
“What’re you making?” Tikki asked her holder as she ate a macaron while watching Marinette sew something on her mannequin.
“A skirt!” Marinette chirped, “For Marc!”
“Oh, did he ask you for one?”
Marinette faltered slightly, “Well, no, technically. But! I can totally tell he wants one! I think he just needs some extra encouragement! If Marc knows we all support him, he’d be more inclined to do it, right?”
Tikki hummed, taking another bite, “That’s nice of you, Marinette! I’m sure he’s happy to know his friends are right beside him!”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by her mom calling out, “Marinette, Marc came for a visit!”
Marinette gestured for Tikki to hide, before turning to the trapdoor and smiling as her cousin entered the room, “Hey, Marc!”
“Can I rant real quick?” With a confirmation from Marinette, Marc walked over and fell face first onto her chaise lounge, groaning into the pillow, “I fucking hate school.”
“Valid,” Marinette immediately said, “Homework been hard lately?”
“No, it’s not even that!” Marc shouted, sitting up and turning towards her, anger blazing in his eyes, “It’s how everyone has been fucking harassing me about wearing more skirts! Where the fuck did that even come from?! I only wore one once !”
Shocked by her cousin's angered ranting, Marinette couldn't find the energy to muster anything besides, "I didn't know you felt that way."
"THAT'S THE FUCKING PROBLEM!" Marc practically exploded, digging his fingers into his hair, "Nobody has bothered asking me about how I feel about this! Everyone is just assuming they know what I'm thinking!" His tone turned mocking as he impersonated what must've been one of the conversations he's had over the past week, "Oh, Marc! You don't have to be scared that we'll judge you! Wearing skirts is totally fine!"
Marinette felt the need to back away as he continued yelling, slowly scooting backwards.
"I know that! I just don't want to wear skirts all the time! Why can't they get that through their heads?!" He groaned, rubbing his face, “Sorry, I just needed to get that out. I’ll deal with it. Somehow.”
Marinette quietly rolled her chair closer, not sure what to do besides give her cousin a comforting pat on his back.
---
It hadn’t gotten any better. If anything, his friends had decided to double down even further on the skirt thing, constantly bombarding him with praise and support any time the teacher wasn’t paying enough attention. The only time Marc didn’t hear about it anymore was when he was with Nathaniel.
“I’m so tired,” Marc whined, letting the noise of the cafeteria conceal his complaining, burying his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. Nathaniel rubbed his back.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He murmured, trying to be there for Marc, “I don’t think they’re gonna stop anytime soon, but we could do something like watching a movie together to get your mind off it.”
“I just want them to stop,” Marc grumbled, but still leaning further into Nathaniel’s touch.
The artist hummed, before quietly saying, “I may have an idea for that actually? They may not stop entirely, but if it goes according to plan, they’d stop bothering you .”
Marc sat up, staring at his boyfriend with sparkling eyes, “Really?! What is it?”
“Redirect them,” Nathaniel continued, waving his hands around in the air as he elaborated, “I don’t know, tell them to ask me for a second opinion? Then I can just take the skirt and you don’t have to deal with it anymore.”
Marc laughed, instantly hugging the artist, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Nathaniel smiled back at him, “No problem. Hope this solves the problem.”
---
The plan actually worked. Every time someone approached Marc with fabric in their hands, he would suggest they ask Nathaniel for a second opinion. The artist would then take the skirt himself, saying something in return that suggested that he thought Marc would like it so he’d show it to the writer later. After that, the person would stop talking to Marc about it. It was perfect!
However, the teenagers soon started noticing that Marc would never actually wear any of the skirts Nathaniel had taken. This started rumors among the student body that Nathaniel was deciding what clothes Marc would have.
How horrible of him! It just wasn’t right for him to force Marc to only wear a specific type of clothing! What if this even extended to other things about their relationship like where they went on dates or the things they would write about in their comic?! Soon enough, a group of them decided to confront him about this behavior.
Nathaniel was just trying to get his stuff from his locker when they approached him. He turned slightly, prepared to drawl the same monologue as usual about showing Marc the skirts, even though he had no intention of doing so.
“We need to talk,” One of them said, voice cold.
Nathaniel flinched back, not expecting that, “Um. Okay. What’s wrong?”
They jabbed a finger into his chest, “You! That’s what!” The action was repeated, pushing him further and further back until his back hit the wall. “How dare you! You’re way too controlling over Marc's outfit choices! He should be able to wear whatever he wants without you telling him what to wear! Marc doesn’t need a toxic boyfriend like you! You should cherish the time left with that precious boy before he wises up and leaves you for someone who will actually listen to him!”
Nathaniel couldn’t help the way his eyes widened, gaping at the crowd of students who all seemed to agree with the leader in front. He blinked, trying to comprehend the words just spoken to him, before putting his head in his hands in disbelief, "You think I'm the one who's-” He took a deep breath, calming himself down before casually turning to them and saying, “I can't do this anymore. You people are fucking insane."
Without a second glance, he side stepped them, grabbing his stuff and leaving the room, not wanting to unpack all of that at the moment.
---
Marc glanced up from his seat on the staircase when he heard Nathaniel running over to him with a shout of his name. He scooted over to let his boyfriend sit down next to him.
Nathaniel immediately took the opportunity to drape himself over the writer, “Babe, you would not believe what just happened.”
Marc chuckled at the dramatics. Nathaniel did that surprisingly more often than people thought. Although, that might just be because he only did it around those close to him. “Well, you can’t just leave me hanging. Go on.”
Nathaniel sat up, immediately starting to ramble about the experience, hands flying in the air as he explained. Marc sat attentively, although he was unable to stop the instinctual reactions upon certain parts of the story.
That’s why the incredibly loud “THEY CALLED YOU WHAT?!” was not his fault at all.
Nathaniel just continued with his rant, “Right?! It’s so ironic!”
Their conversation was interrupted by the students from before walking out of the locker room and casually strolling over to them, the leader from before standing in front with their arms crossed.
“Did you need something?” Marc asked, keeping his voice sweet and soft, trying not to let his irritation bleed through. If it did, the others didn’t notice.
“Marc,” The leader gently said, stepping forward, “I just want you to know that you’re free to do whatever you want. Nathaniel doesn’t have any control over your actions. We know that you-”
Marc didn’t even bother listening to the rest of that statement, instead just standing up silently.
“What the hell do you know about me ?”
The group all flinched back, not expecting the cold response. The writer stepped down the stairs, slowly approaching them.
“For the past month, you people have been going around encouraging me to wear skirts, dresses, stuff like that,” Marc stated, “And I have continuously told you that I understand it’s okay, but I personally don’t want to.”
“Marc-”
“What gives you the right to assume what I want?!” Marc fumed, not even letting them get a word in, “I am so tired of you people thinking you know every little detail of my life. I don’t want to! Is that too complicated for you to understand?!”
---
From the second floor, Bustier turned to Mendeleiev, “Should we go stop him?”
Mendeleiev simply took another drink of her coffee, “Trust me, he needs this.”
Bustier shrugged, going back to watching the students down below.
---
“I don’t even understand why you guys think I want to wear skirts all the damn time!” Marc continued, Nathaniel having stood up at one point to stand behind him and nod along, rubbing his boyfriend’s shoulders supportively.
The leader stuttered, trying to explain their actions, "Y-You were wearing one that day- And it’s just that- I mean, well, you’re gay so-"
Marc stared at them in surprise, going still in anger, “Is that your reasoning?!” He stormed forward, getting right up in their face, “That’s not even right , because you don’t harass any of the other LGBT students about this! Only me! Why-” He froze, seeming to realize something right then and there. Marc took a deep breath, taking a step back, before looking directly at the crowd and asking, “Is this all because I wear eyeliner and lip gloss?!”
The crowd all glanced around at each other, shrinking into themselves slightly. It was obvious the guilt was starting to set in once Marc had called them out for it.
Marc sighed, rubbing his face, "Look at me. No, don't look away- Look at me . What about my outfit makes you think that I wear cutesy shit? Even the skirt I was wearing that day was punk! Why did you all default to stuff that's 'adorable' or whatever?!"
The students cringed, some trying to make eye contact with Marc as he had demanded and some avoiding it at all costs. Nathaniel wasn’t even trying to stop his ranting. Marc deserved to after all this time.
Eventually, the writer quieted down, stating firmly, “I don’t have problems with not conforming to gender presentation and standards, but when you all constantly try to make the most feminine guy you know wear skirts, then that just reinforces how you see me as a stereotype of a gay guy instead of a person and I am sick of it .”
They all shuffled in place, acting anxious and regretful. Some of them murmured quiet apologies to the boy standing a few feet ahead of them.
Marc stared at them for a moment, before turning around and grabbing his boyfriend’s hand. “Come on, let’s go to the art room for today.”
Nathaniel smiled at him, chirping cheerily, “Whatever you want, babe.”
---
The next day had multitudes of students coming up to him and apologizing in private conversations for the whole debacle. As far as Marc was aware, none of them were faking it. It really seemed like they were trying to support him and his identity, but just went about it in the wrong way.
The attention was a little tiring, but at least they were changing how they acted. That’s all Marc needed to be fine with this outcome.