warnings: gender questioning? kinda but not really. there's some undertones. also sad mgg.

word count: 3.6k

///

"which one do you like better?" i stare back at my reflection in the mirror, holding two skirts up to myself. "matthew?"

"hmm?"

i turn around to find him lounging on the bed, a book in his hand. i wiggle the skirts in my hands for him. "which one?"

"which one what?" he puts his face back in his book, diverting his attention. "we're quarantining anyway. there's nowhere to wear a skirt to."

i grimace, picking the white skirt without his opinion and tossing the blue one aside. "i just wanna put on a skirt instead of sweatpants for once." he makes some sort of humpf noise as i change, and he doesn't look up again. even as i fix my hair and makeup, he never says anything else.

so i roll my eyes and march downstairs, determined to put as much distance between us as i can. he's been annoying all morning and i don't need his negative energy making quarantine even worse. it started out amazing, though. matthew and i always had to be separated because of work and when california locked down, we jumped at the opportunity to quarantine together.

quarantine brought us together in so many new ways. at first, my excitement quickly turned to nerves as i feared moving in with matthew after just three months of dating would ruin us. that we wouldn't be able to handle the constant closeness and our amazing relationship would just end. but so far, six months into quarantine and nine months into our love, we are closer than ever.

except for this last week. matthew has been cold and distant recently, staying mostly in the den and reading a book or drawing. i have no problem with him having alone time in his own house that he very graciously let me stay in, but that need to be alone started leaking into every second of the day. he decided to eat dinner alone and he didn't cuddle me in bed and canceled movie night in favor of a bath by himself. alone time is fine, but the neglect is starting to really bother me.

but i decide to take advantage of my own alone time. matthew is sulking upstairs and i've got the whole downstairs to myself. so i kick off my shoes, put down a few paper towels, and start painting my nails. matthew usually complains that the smell bothers him, but he can stay on his own on the second floor.

i do my toes first, a simple light pink color, twisting up paper towels to put between my toes. i barely pay attention to whatever is on the tv, just wiggling my toes and try to fit them into the led light that dries the polish quicker.

"i liked the blue skirt better."

i nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of matthew's voice behind me, turning to find him standing at the foot of the stairs. his book is in his hands and he looks exhausted, his hair disheveled and barely curly. he trudges over and sits on the cushion beside mine.

"well, if you had told me that when i asked, then i'd be wearing it right now." i sass, leaning down to fix a small smudge in the nail polish.

"i was just invested in my book."

"mhm," i hum, sliding onto the floor and searching for the clear coat.

matthew says nothing about the smell as i cover my nails in two coats of clear polish and put them under the led light to dry. i don't even look back at him as i start painting little flowers over the dried clear coat.

"angel?" matthew eventually whispers, and his voice is closer than it was previously. "would it be weird if i wanted to paint my nails?"

"no," i answer, finishing off a yellow flower. "you can use whatever color you want. i have the rainbow and a lot of pastels and neons and-"

"no, but—" he pauses, and i can practically feel his hesitance radiating off of him, "you don't think it's weird?"

i look back at him now, finding his hands in his lap and his head down. his book is disregarded and tossed aside for the first time in a long time. furrowing my eyes brows, i answer, "no, love, it's not weird at all. you can do whatever you want."

matthew slides onto the floor beside me and grabs a bottle of green polish. "but nail polish is, like, a girly thing."

"not really," i say, sticking my hands under the light again. "plenty of guys wear nail polish. if you wanna wear it, then wear it. it's not weird." he gives me a look, some cross between disappointed and confused, and my insides melt. "it's inherently a female thing, yes. but you know my opinion on gendered things."

"you think it's stupid," he finishes for me, now picking up a pretty lavender polish and examining the bottle. "gendered ideas, products, and practices just serve to divide men and women. like, pens. pens shouldn't be made for men or for women. there should just be pens. there doesn't need to be pink pens for women. just pens."

"interesting example there but that's exactly what i think, bubs," i quip, leaning over to kiss his cheek. and as my lips make contact with his skin, i realize i haven't kissed him in a week. "things shouldn't be gendered. so if you wanna paint your nails then go for it. i bet you'd look really good with painted nails."

matthew only cracks a smile at that, and now moves to the third bottle, a black polish. "i wouldn't know how to do it."

"i could do it for you," i offer. "just give me a few minutes to finish drying my nails and then i'll do it for you."

true to my word, the moment my nails are dry, i pop the top off the black polish and take matthew's hand into mine. his nails definitely aren't as nicely groomed as mine, for obvious reasons, but i make do with his bitten nails. he stays silent through the process of painting and doesn't squirm nearly as much as i thought he would. though maybe his lack of energy is cause for concern.

"now," i cap the bottle, "just put your hand under the light and it'll dry. you've gotta stay still though."

he hums and scoots closer to the light, crossing his legs under the coffee table. i feel his eyes on me as i clean up some of the excess polish products, and before i can put them away, matthew speaks up again. "is there any way you could maybe," he takes a deep breath, "do flowers? like yours?"

"yeah!" i beam, putting the polishes back on the table and picking up a small nail brush. "which color? do you want more than one or just one color flower?"

"maybe just one. on one finger," he says, and carefully pulls his hands away from the led light, placing them in front of me.

i get to work painting little yellow flowers on his ring finger. "so," i mumble, ducking my head down to get a better look at his finger, "how've you been feeling the last week or so?"

"oh," he sighs and starts wiggling his body from the nerves, "yeah, i know i've been kinda off the last week. sorry about that."

"i mean, i guess it's fine," i shrug, "i just wish you would communicate that with me instead of ignoring me and isolating yourself."

"yeah, i know," matthew brings his hands up to his face to admire the flowers and then puts them back under the light. "i was just— well, i read this book, i guess, that got me thinking and i just wanted to, you know, think about it."

"again," now i start to officially put the polish away, "you could communicate that with me. tell me that you want time by yourself so i don't start feeling like i'm unwelcome here."

he looks up at me with big, pretty eyes, a small pout on his lips. "you were feeling unwelcome? you're always welcome here! i love you!"

"well you weren't talking to me and wouldn't even touch me in bed at night and we haven't eaten a meal together in forever so i was just starting to feel like you didn't want me here anymore."

"i'm sorry," matthew lowers his voice, looking down at his lap while i wander around the living room in search of something to clean. "i'm sorry, i just— i didn't mean to make you feel that way."

"well," i whip around to face him, ready to be even more confrontational to get to the bottom of his obnoxious behavior. but i find him still looking down, his lips quivering. "hey," i sit down beside him again, brushing my fingers through his hair, "what's going on?"

"it's so stupid," he shakes his head, but lets it fall onto my shoulder. "it's really so stupid."

"it's clearly not if it's got you this upset. remember what i just said? you need to communicate with me. you don't have to tell me whatever it is that's upsetting you, i just want you to—"

"i will, i'll," he sniffles, wiping his cheeks and letting his back fall against the couch. matthew puts his hands on his thighs and locks his eyes on the black nail polish and yellow flowers on his fingers. "i was just reading this book on gender and how it's basically just a social construct meant to oppress people and put people in these boxes. how gender is just a thing that's hammered into us to further the divide between men and women and put men on a pedestal. and, well, i don't know. i guess it stuck with me, more than the other things i've heard you say about gender. i've been thinking about it all week."

"and that's why you wanted to paint your nails?"

"yeah," he brings them up to his eye level as he nods. "i've never really worried about being manly and never really felt the need to be manly and i've always been in touch with my femininity, but i've always done it within the constraints of what was acceptable for men to do."

"so," i take one of his hands in mine and bring it to my lips, "then branch out a little bit. do things that are typically feminine. as you reminded me this morning, there's a pandemic so we're not going anywhere anytime soon. nobody will see you. branch out a little bit."

he scrunches up his nose, clearly willing away more tears. "you don't think that's weird? that doesn't bother you?"

"not at all. you should be able to express yourself however you want."

matthew hums, intertwining his fingers with mine as he nods one more time. "yeah, okay."

"was there anything specific you wanted to do? besides the nail painting. because, i don't know if you know this," i put on a teasing smirk and grab his chin, "but i'm a female. so i know a lot about females and what they do."

matthew chuckles, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against his chest. "believe it or not, i did know that. but thanks for reminding me."

"so tell me!" i exclaim, putting my hands on his chest to keep him right in my view. "did you wanna explore things physically or mentally, or what?"

"physically? i guess? both, maybe? i don't know. okay, well, like," he stops his rambling and takes a deep breath, "you know that harry styles vogue cover?"

"of him in the dress. you wanna wear a dress?"

"maybe," he repeats. "i don't know if i'm really ready for a dress or a skirt yet. maybe for a while i'll just stick to nail polish and, like, those frilly crew cut socks with the lace on them or something. i'd be too nervous to buy a skirt anyway."

"it's not like you can go into a store and buy one now. you could just order it and nobody would be the wiser."

"yeah, you're right," matthew nods. he goes quiet then, dragging his hands up and down my thighs and just getting lost in his thoughts. i let him, not wanting to interrupt, and watch his face. "in the future i'll buy one."

"sounds good with me," i give him a kiss, short and chaste that definitely doesn't make up for the last week. "if your nails chip and you want me to fix them, just let me know and i'll do it."

"okay, thank you." matthew smiles at me, tugging me closer and burying his face in my hair. "and thank you for being so accepting."

"i love you and i love everything about you. whether you wanna wear a dress or not."

we eat dinner together that night and nearly forget the conversation ever happened. the only reminder is matthew's chipping nail polish and a pair of frilly, lace socks that i catch him hiding under his jeans and converse when we go grocery shopping.

then the next week, i find him trying to fix his polish on his own. i have to jump in and fix it up for him because he gets the black color all over his skin. the week after that, i go to join him while he's reading in the den and notice that he's reading another book on gender identity. i don't comment on it. after a third week and another suffocating week of quarantine, i decide i want to get out of the house.

"hey," i say to matthew, walking into the bathroom where he's nearly asleep in the bathtub, "i'm gonna run out for a little bit. do you need anything?"

"where are you going?" he sleepily asks, head dropping to one side as i sit on the edge of the tub.

"just to a couple stores. need anything?"

"don't think so," he puckers his lips dramatically, not even willing to sit up to get a kiss. but he looks cute so i oblige, leaning down to kiss him. we say goodbye and i head out to the store.

i spend a few hours running around to a handful of stores, filling up my backseat with shopping bags and slathering my hands in hand sanitizer. by the time i return home, my amazon package is in the mailbox. perfect timing.

"hi, baby!" i call into the house as i waddle inside, balancing the bags in my arms. i don't get a response so i poke my head into the living room, finding my boyfriend fast asleep with the tv playing quietly. even better timing.

i leave him be and head upstairs, closing the bedroom door. i arrange most of the things i bought in a pretty box, wrapping it up like a christmas present. once i'm finished with it, i tuck it under the bed and go downstairs.

"oh, hey," matthew yawns as he sits up from the couch. "didn't hear you come in. how was your trip?"

"it was good," i kiss his cheek, falling onto the couch beside him and putting my head in his lap. "are you hungry? i was just thinking about dinner."

"not really," he responds with a shrug. "just a little tired, obviously. where'd you go out to?"

"actually," i sit up and grab his hands, tugging gently, "i got you a gift. want it?"

"a gift?" he questions, following me up the stairs. "why'd you get me a gift? did i forget an anniversary or something?"

"no, no," i sit him on the bed and grab the box, "i just wanted to get you these things. but let me preface this by saying," i sit beside him and put my hands on the box, "you might absolutely hate it, and that's okay. if you do then i'll take it back and i won't give anything like this to you again."

matthew furrows his eyebrows. "uh, okay. now i'm nervous."

"don't be. just— if you hate it, then it's fine."

matthew gives me one more uncertain look before he starts pulling off the wrapping paper and pops open the box. he pauses at first, staring at the contents inside and presumably sizing them up.

"i," i pause too, trying to figure out what to say, "i know you said you weren't ready for some things, and i respect that. but i also wanna show you that i support you and that i love you. so i got you these."

matthew pulls out the contents one by one. three different shades of purple nail polish, another led light so we can do our nails at the same time, six more books on gender expression and identity, an eyeshadow palette with only neutrals, two tubes of lip gloss, more of those frilly socks he seems to love, two pairs of women's underwear (one plain black and one white lace), and finally, my amazon order, a plaid black and green pleated skirt. when all the items are laid on the bed, he spends a couple minutes just staring at them, and my word vomit spews out of my mouth.

"the led light is so we can do our nails together and not argue about who gets to use the one i have now. i got the purple nail polishes because it's your favorite color. and i got the underwear because i figured you can't really wear boxers under a skirt because they'd show. and the books, well, i wanna read them too so i can know more about—"

i'm cut off by matthew throwing his arms around me, nearly knocking me off the bed. but i grab his shoulders to keep myself upright, hugging him back. "thank you so much," he whispers in my ear. "i love it. thank you."

with a weight lifted from my shoulders, i finally allow myself to smile. "i'm glad you do. i figured you'd be too nervous to make the jump to buy any of these things so i figured i'd give you the push. i also guessed on what size you'd be for the skirt so if it doesn't fit then i'll exchange it for the right one."

"thank you," he repeats like a mantra. "thank you."

i leave him be with his gifts and go downstairs to make dinner. and once again, we forget this conversation. matthew is returning to being his happy, chaotic self, now adorned in painted fingernails and well-groomed eyebrows. he tells me those little things are just a start.

so another long week passes by and i need to go into the office for the day. i give matthew a kiss, grab some coffee and head to work. the day is like any in-person day, exhausting and way busier than it would be if i were sitting on the couch with my laptop and a glass of wine. at the end of the day, i'm ready to take a shower and order some food in so i can cuddle with my boyfriend.

"matthew?" i call into the house, dropping my purse beside the door and pulling the hair tie out of my hair. i stumble up the stairs while pulling off my heels and trying to unbutton my blouse.

i get to the bedroom and open the door, not really thinking anything of it. but i walk right in on matthew, staring at himself in the mirror. my eyes widen and my jaw nearly drops when i take notice of his outfit. a navy sweater vest over a white button up, rolled at the sleeves, of course, with the plaid skirt i bought him last week, finished off with the lacy socks and his beat up white converse. he's looking at me with the most panicked expression, seemingly cowering into the corner of the room.

"oh, my god," i blurt out, my shoes slipping out of my hands and clattering to the floor. "you—"

"do you think it looks bad?" he rushes out the words, tugging just slightly on the hem of the skirt. "i can't decide if it looks good or absolutely horrible."

"matthew gray gubler, i have literally never been more attracted to you than i am right now. holy shit."

he furrows his eyebrows and slowly drops his arms to his sides. "that doesn't necessarily sound like a good thing."

"you look so good!" i break out of my daze and go rushing over, throwing my arms around him. "you look so good. the skirt looks like it fits perfect and this outfit you put together is so good."

matthew chuckles, resting his head on the top of mine and squeezing my tighter. "is it so good?"

"so fucking good," i drag my hands down to his waistline and nudge him back against the wall. i take a step back to keep admiring him. "you genuinely look amazing, baby. skirts are a good look on you."

matthew smiles bashfully, ducking his head down. "i like it too."

"good!" i whip my phone out from my pocket and open amazon. "because i found all these other skirts when i was searching for that one and i added them to a wishlist."

"really? you think i'd look good in all of these?"

"you'd look good in anything. so which one? i like the blue one."