Chapter Text
Kevin had never really thought much about the way he looked. Well, he did, but it was all through the lens of treating his body like a machine. Having a strict diet and workout regimen, tailored by the professional trainers and dietitians of the nest meant his body was practically sculpted for him. It was built for exy, honed to a perfect balance of muscularity and flexibility and kept that way.
He often found himself comparing his body to the marble statues that littered his history textbook covers. Back then, Greek sculptors followed what art historians call the “canon of proportions.” An ideal aspiration, the embodiment of perfection, beauty, strength and symmetry. The mathematical ratios they used to carve what was in their minds, the perfect form. Divine proportion, was how his textbooks worded it.
But since escaping the toxicity of Edgar Allen and the Nest, Kevin’s body had been changing, not necessarily for better or worse, but he could tell the difference when he caught a glimpse in the mirror. In the nest, he and Riko would stand next to each other in the bathroom mirror while getting ready and point out the best and worst parts of themselves. Now, whenever Kevin let his gaze linger too long he felt like he was looking at a stranger. A feeling would start to bubble up, something he couldn’t name, but then he’d shake it off, shove it down and tear his gaze away from the mirror and get dressed as quickly as he possibly could.
One Saturday, Kevin is lounging on the couch watching exy when he gets a text from Allison:
come shopping w me.
He responds:
no
His phone buzzes a few times in a row:
:(
pls
ill take you to exites
Kevin rolls his eyes, of course Allison knows how to convince him to tag along with her is to offer to take him to Exites. He can never stay away from that store, and he always walks away with new gear.
fine. when?
There’s a knock on his door almost as soon as he hits send.
“Day! Come on! I want to hit the mall before Victoria Secret closes,” Allison calls from the hallway. Kevin hauls himself off the couch, tosses on a pair of shoes and opens the door.
“Hi, Kev,” Allison says with her usual friendly flirtatious smile.
“I need to go to Exites anyway, I need new grip tape. That’s the only reason I agreed to come,” Kevin grumbles.
“Awe, c’mon you know you love being my bag boy. I know you secretly enjoy it when we stop in Bath and Body Works and smell all the lotions. Don’t deny it,” Allison teases, linking her arm in his as they set off downstairs and into the parking lot.
Allison’s pink convertible has the top down today, which makes sense since it is a particularly nice fall day in Palmetto and Kevin is happy to enjoy the sun while it’s out. Allison tosses her purse into the back seat as she slides into the driver seat. She pops on her sunglasses before starting the car and lets Rihanna blast through the speakers as Kevin sinks into the passenger seat next to her. Allison offers him a piece of pink bubblegum as she pulls out of the parking lot.
They’re at the mall not more than 20 minutes later and Allison fills him in on her game plan, “I’m thinking first stop, Abercrombie, then we can swing by Bath and Body Works. Then, American Eagle before we hit Victoria Secret. I might want to stop by Forever 21 but I haven’t decided. Honestly, I’m craving Auntie Annie’s right now so we are definitely getting that. But after I buy lingerie. After we’re done we can head to Exites. Sounds good?”
“Yeah, mind if we swing by Barnes and Nobles too?” Kevin asks. Allison nods as they duck into their first stop. Kevin will never admit it but he likes tagging along with Allison, she’ll chatter away about whatever she had on her mind that day and he’ll chime in occasionally. Allison will claim that she only brought him to carry her bags. But Kevin knew she liked having someone to ask for their opinion on whatever she was trying on. Another thing Allison always did was drag him through the men’s section and pull things for him to try on too.
“You’re like my own Ken doll. Plus, your eyes are just so pretty and they look so good with this green, you’re trying this on,” Allison gushes holding up a shirt to Kevin’s chest.
“Whatever you say,” Kevin obliges with a small smile.
After gathering their haul from Abercrombie, they swing by Bath and Body Works. Kevin watches as Allison peruses the perfumes, picking up one, spraying it onto the little paper strips, waving it around and then sniffing it.
“Ooh, smell this one. This smells so yummy,” Allison says, holding out the little paper strip for Kevin to smell. The warm sweet floral scent was nice, “Japanese Cherry Blossom,” Allison reads from the bottle.
“It smells nice,” Kevin agrees. Allison spritzes another few onto separate strips and holds each one up for Kevin. The one Kevin likes the most ends up being Japanese Cherry Blossom. He tries to stop Allison from tossing the shower gel and lotion versions in her basket alongside her favorite, Sweet Pea.
“You deserve to pamper yourself sometimes, Kev,” she hums while swiping her credit card. Kevin takes the bag from the cashier with a mumbled thanks as they head to their next stop.
Allison doesn’t end up spending much time in American Eagle and they move quickly onto Victoria’s Secret. Kevin tries to keep his eyes glued to the floor as they weave between the lingerie clad mannequins. After Allison grabs a few things to try on, Kevin finds his gaze drifting and he ends up standing in front of a rack of lacy flowy sheer tank tops. The rack is labeled babydoll nighties. Before he can stop himself, his hands are on it, confirming that the fabric feels as silky as it looks. Allison steps out of the dressing room unsatisfied with the things she had picked, her gaze lands on Kevin.
“That’s cute,” Allison says, suddenly appearing next to him. He pulls his hand back fast as though he had just touched a hot stove.
“It looked soft,” Kevin blushes. Allison picks it up and hums in agreement, grabbing one in her size before drifting off to grab a few other pieces to head back into the dressing room.
“Kevin,” Allison pops her head out and beckons him over to the small stall, “What do you think?” She asks, opening the door just enough to see that she has on the babydoll nightie he had been looking at.
“You look nice,” he says with a small smile. She looks at him annoyed.
“Yeah but is it sexy?” She asks.
“This feels like a trick question.”
“Well, you’re a guy and I want your opinion, is this sexy?” She asks again, turning to look at herself in the mirror.
“You always look great in everything, Allison,” Kevin gives as a non-answer. She frowns at him in the mirror.
“Well, this thing caught your eye on the rack, so that’s gotta mean something right?” She plays with the hem, still examining herself in the mirror.
“It looked soft,” he shrugs, “it looks better on you than on the hanger though.” Allison laughs at the sentiment.
“Glad to know you have eyes, Day. I would kill you if you said it was the other way around. At the very least you’d be banned from bag boy privileges,” she smirked. With a small wave of her hand, she shoos him away to get changed again. With her approved selection in hand, including the blue nightie, they check out and Kevin adds another bag to the collection of ones he’s carrying.
“I’m starving,” Allison remarks, “Let’s hit the food court.”
With that, they make their way to the food court, where Allison orders a pretzel from Auntie Annie’s and Kevin orders the least offensive smoothie from Orange Julius’s.
“What are your thoughts on our game yesterday?” Allison asks, tearing off a bit of her pretzel.
“We should have done better,” Kevin huffs, they had won the game but barely. The final score was 9-8, foxes favor.
“It didn’t help that the refs were clearly favoring the Bearcats,” Allison added.
“They weren’t favoring them. It just wasn’t our best game,” Kevin replies, taking a sip of his smoothie, “Neil and Jack just don’t work well on the court together and I don’t know why coach is so insistent on making them play together instead of just pairing Neil and I. Plus, we were a well-oiled machine by the end of last year and the freshmen are like a giant wrench in it.”
“Well it doesn’t help when all you do is scream insults at them all day,” Allison teases, with another bite of her pretzel.
“Well then maybe they should stop being stupid on the court,” Kevin pushes back. Allison laughs at his annoyance.
“The only way we’ll win championships again this year is if we can actually function as a team. We need more time on the court, we should be running more drills.”
“Kev, running Raven drills at midnight would only make us normal people worse during regularly scheduled practice. You and Neil are exy freaks, I don’t understand how you can function with so little sleep,” Allison says exasperated.
“I sleep enough,” Kevin defends himself, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Allison lets out a laugh at this statement.
“You and I both know that’s a lie. Neil didn’t respond to my text until 2am on Thursday which means you guys were at the court until at least then and that was the night before a game day. Maybe if you guys got actual sleep you wouldn’t be so irritated at practice and could actually communicate with the rest of us instead of hurling insults at us,” she says accusingly.
“I couldn’t sleep that night, it was different,” Kevin tries to brush off, “we’re not normally on the court that late the night before the game. We weren’t even really practicing. Just running some easy drills. It helps clear my head.”
“Any chance you want to share those thoughts? Must be something interesting if it got you that restless,” Allison offers. Kevin sips his smoothie instead of answering, unsure of the words to explain the feeling even to himself. How could he put into words the feeling he felt when seeing someone he doesn’t recognize in the mirror that wouldn’t make her question his sanity.
“See now I need to know, because if it’s got you all quiet it’s gotta be something interesting,” she insisted.
“I don’t know how to explain it, it’s not gonna make any sense,” Kevin says, taking another sip of his smoothie.
“Try me,” Allison smiled at him. He appreciated their bond that had developed over the last year. He wasn’t sure when it really happened, but ever since the end of the season last year, they had grown close; friends even. It had started as Allison saying she wanted company while shopping, but they had also had a few movie nights whenever Andrew and Neil kicked him out of his dorm. He had opened up to her about his eating habits, which led to a discussion about disordered eating and how Allison had dealt with that in high school; and still occasionally struggled with it. Thanks to her advice, he had made some more progress being okay with eating foods that weren’t a part of a strictly monitored and measured diet.
The words slipped out of his mouth before he even had a chance to process it, “it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.”
Allison’s eyebrows knit together, “What do you mean by that?”
“In the mirror,” Kevin starts to explain, “when I catch a glimpse of my reflection I don’t see myself anymore. My body has changed a lot since I left the Nest and I don’t think my mind has caught up yet.” Allison nods, silent for a second.
“How do you feel about it?” She asks.
“Logically, I know I’m healthier than I ever was at Edgar Allen. I feel better, I eat better, I have more energy when I play. But when I look in the mirror somehow it’s not me. I don’t know if I felt like my body was mine even when I was there, because it wasn’t really. They treated us like machines that needed to be maintained more than people. But now I just feel disconnected like I got body swapped and now I have to learn how to actually take care of a meat sack and not a machine.” Allison chuckled at the meat sack analogy.
“What a way you have with words, Day. A meat sack? Is that really how you see your body now?” She teases but then gets serious when Kevin doesn’t laugh, “I’m sorry Kev, I dealt with body dysmorphia in high school and I know it’s not fun. What do you usually do when you feel like that?”
Kevin shrugs, “usually just try not to think about it too hard and distract myself with exy.” Allison rolls her eyes at this response.
“Okay, so not the most healthy coping mechanism. But what about it feels wrong when you are looking?” She pushes.
Kevin frowns staring into his smoothie, “I don’t know. I just don’t like it. Some days, I can ignore it. Other days, it’s just unbearable.”
“And what do you do on those days?”
Kevin hesitates, “I throw myself into practice.”
“Does it help distract you?” Allison asks quietly.
“Not really. Sometimes, but most of the time no,” Kevin takes another sip of his smoothie.
“Yeah, ignoring things usually doesn’t make them go away. Trust me, I’ve tried,” Allison says softly with a smile, “It’s why I like bringing someone shopping with me. If I go alone I get too in my head and I spiral into old ways of thinking about my body.” This confession was new information to Kevin and his gaze comes up from the spot on the table he’s been focused on to meet hers.
“I didn’t know that,” Kevin admits.
“Well,” Allison sighs, “talking about my body dysmorphia isn’t exactly something I like to do every day.”
“I’m sorry,” Kevin says quietly.
“No, it’s okay,” Allison reassures him, “I’ve spent a lot of time working on it in therapy. That’s not to say I don’t still have bad days, but it’s mostly good now. Especially since I have a lot healthier coping mechanisms for when I do have bad thoughts.” Kevin doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to take another sip of his smoothie. Allison splits the remains of her pretzel in half and offers a piece to Kevin, which he takes.
“Ready to keep shopping? I think I want to hit H&M instead of Forever 21. Then we can go to Barnes and Nobles before we head to Exites,” She brushes off the salt from her pretzel on her napkin as they stand up to continue their bout around the mall. They’re comfortably quiet as they start their browsing in H&M. Without Allison’s usual constant commentary, Kevin finds himself actually looking at the clothes.
“Anything catching your eye?” Allison asks over the clothing rack. Kevin shakes his head. She hums holding up a shirt to herself.
“I wish I could pull off yellow, but I think it washes me out too much,” she says as she puts the shirt back on the rack.
“I’m pretty sure you can pull off anything you want to,” Kevin comments. Allison laughs with a small smile. She turns to a rack of skirts.
“I wish that were true but unfortunately my legs were not made for skater skirts. It’s mini or maxi, there is no in between for me,” she says as she lets her hand drag over a simple black skater skirt before setting her sights on a red mini skirt. Kevin’s gaze rests on the black skirt as suddenly the image of himself and what his legs might look like wearing it forces itself into his mind. He freezes for a moment. Allison catches this before he manages to tear his gaze away, setting his sights on a nearby mannequin, in a blazer over a t-shirt and jeans.
“You know you have great legs,” Allison says as if somehow she was able to read his mind, “I bet you’d look great in a skirt. Have you ever tried one?
“No,” Kevin snapped quickly, shocking Allison and himself with his harsh tone, “Why would I have ever put on a skirt? That’s girl's clothes.” He tries to brush it off in a nonchalant way. Allison eyes him carefully.
“Kev, it’s literally a piece of fabric. The only reason people think some things are ‘for men’ or ‘for women’ is because someone, somewhere, a hundred years ago, decided that was the rule. But guess what? That guy’s dead, and I don’t take fashion advice from corpses,” Allison says, picking through the rack of black skirts and pulling one out, “think about Prince or Bowie. Hell, Gerard Way wears more makeup than I do and nobody bats an eye. People act like gender’s some natural thing, but it’s just a bunch of crap we’re told we have to follow. No one really cares anymore if a girl wears a suit, so if some guy wants to wear a dress, good for him.”
"Yeah, okay. But it’s not about what people tell you to wear. It’s about looking like you’re supposed to, you know? If you start messing with that stuff, it’s like you’re just giving people an excuse to treat you like less—like you’re weaker or something," Kevin says defensively.
“Oh so femininity is weak?” Allison challenges with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Kevin stutters, “I-I just mean, I don’t care what other people wear. But other people do. I just don’t want that kind of attention.”
“Since when do you care what other people think?” She asks curiously. Kevin shrugs. He knew better than to listen to what people were saying about him. But he didn’t want any sort of negative attention and this line of conversation is quickly becoming a red flag of potential negative attention to him.
“Have you found stuff you want to try on?” Kevin tries to redirect her attention away from him and his issues.
“A few,” She says looking at the assortment of hangers she held in one hand, “I have some stuff for you to try on though too.”
“Allison, I’m not putting on the skirt,” Kevin insisted.
“C’mon,” Allison pouts, “you don’t have to show anyone, I won’t even make you show me. I just think maybe this would be good to push you out of your comfort zone. See your body in a way you haven’t before. Part of why I like shopping is trying different things on, even if I don’t end up buying them I come out of it knowing more about what I do or don’t like to wear and what looks good on my body versus what should stay on the hanger.” Kevin can’t deny her reasoning makes sense to him. He can’t help but regret the food court confession. When he doesn’t immediately say no, Allison’s pout turns into a slow, tentative smile.
“If you don’t like it, I will seriously never bring this up again,” she swears. Kevin relents and lets her shove him in a changing room with the skirt and a few other shirts and pants she had collected for him.
Eager to get it over with, Kevin pulls the skirt on first. The waistband settles snugly above his hips. As he looks down at his legs, his heart picks up a beat. When he finally meets his own gaze in the mirror, something in his stomach tightens. Fuck. He thinks. Allison was right, at least a little. He’s never seen his legs look like this before. The skirt falls to mid-thigh, and the flare at the hem makes his waist look slimmer than he ever expected.
Kevin stands frozen for a moment, staring at his reflection as the strange mix of confusion and curiosity strikes him. He pulls at the fabric, his fingers twitching nervously, but he can't look away. The fit, the way the fabric moves—it’s not uncomfortable, not in the way he thought it would be. There’s a part of him that feels almost... right about it, but he quickly shuts that thought down, the rush of panic flooding back.
He turns slightly, trying to see himself from different angles, but the whole thing feels so foreign that he can’t help but scoff.
What the hell is wrong with me? He thinks, his gaze flicking to the floor, hoping the feeling will pass. But deep down, a part of him is still captivated by how the skirt fits. The smallness of his waist, the way the fabric catches the light—it makes him feel... something.
Ignoring the quiet, uncomfortable tug at his chest, he quickly strips it off. But the image of his reflection lingers in the back of his mind as he tries on and shows Allison the various shirts and pants for her approval. Thankfully, Allison keeps her word and doesn’t mention the skirt. They check out of H&M and silently make their way to Barnes & Nobles. Kevin makes a beeline to the history section.
After grabbing a few books that caught his eye, he finds Allison in the magazine section flipping through the latest edition of seventeen magazine. She holds up a page with a picture of Hillary Duff.
“They literally asked her multiple questions about her weight when she said it was mortifying when paparazzi took pictures of her and then printed articles about how much weight she had maybe gained,” Allison scoffs disgusted at the magazine putting it back, “I don’t even know why I bother picking up stuff like that anymore, I know it’s just gonna make me angry and feel bad about myself.” Kevin hums a generic agreement, his mind elsewhere as it won’t let go of how the skirt made him feel earlier.
They check out and head out to load all their purchases into Allison’s convertible. The radio is playing My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas. Kevin can’t help but smirk as Allison sings and dances along in her seat while driving towards Exites.
Usually pulling into the Exites parking lot could cure any undesirable mood Kevin was in. But the memory of the skirt felt like it had burnt itself into the back of his eyelids. He tried to hide his mood as they went inside. But Kevin knew Allison would pick up on it. All he could do was hope she didn’t mention it.
Inside Kevin finds the grip tape he needs before briefly looking at some new racquet laces. He grabs two packs, one for him and one for Neil, to try. The pack said it was supposed to give your racquet more bounce, which might be helpful for getting more power behind their passes. He can feel Allison’s eye on him over the top of the shelves between them.
“I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t say anything but was it really that bad?” Allison ruefully asks. Kevin looks up at her.
“What do you mean?” He mutters, wanting to avoid this conversation.
“The skirt,” Allison huffs, “that’s why you got all quiet and moody right?”
“It’s a piece of fabric, like you said,” Kevin shrugs. He moves towards another rack, pretending to find interest in whatever is on it. It’s knee pads. Allison leans against the shelf next to him trying to get him to look at her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks. Kevin shakes his head no.
“Okay,” Allison says with a pause, “well, if you do, know that I’m here and I’ll listen.” Kevin gives up his pretend interest in the knee pads.
“I’ve got what I need, are you good to go?” He asks, trying to change the subject. Allison follows him to the register and out the door back to her car.
When Allison turns on the radio this time, Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten, comes blaring through the speakers. Kevin once again enjoys watching Allison get into the song, practically performing it as if she was on stage instead of sitting behind a steering wheel.
“Feel the rain on your skin, no else can feel it for you, only you can let it in,” Allison sings along, pointing at Kevin, “no one else, no one else, can speak the words on your lips, drench yourself in words unspoken, live your life with arms wide open,” Allison flings both of her arms wide open, no hands on the steering wheel for a split second while they’re flying down the highway, and Kevin feels his stomach drop for a second before her hands find their way back to the wheel, “today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten.” Allison pokes his cheek and a smile creeps its way onto Kevin’s face.
The rest of the drive back to Fox Tower was quiet except for the radio and Allison singing along when she knew the words. Upon their arrival, Kevin dutifully carries all of Allison’s bags up to her room where she quickly sorts through them and tosses all the things she bought for Kevin into a bag.
“Thanks for tagging along with me,” she hums, handing him the bag. Kevin takes it with a small smile and a mumbled thanks.
When he goes to put the clothes away, he takes the tags off and folds them all neatly into his drawers. When he pulls the last piece of clothing out, his heart stops. It’s that damn skirt. He hadn’t even noticed Allison buying it. He thought he had left it on the dressing room floor. He tosses the skirt back in the bag and goes to throw it away, but something stops him. It’s just a piece of fabric. Allison’s words ring in his ears. So instead of the trash, Kevin puts the bag with the skirt on the top shelf of his closet, out of sight and out of reach of his two pocket-sized roommates.
That’s a problem for another day, he thinks and settles back onto his couch to watch more exy.