Chapter Text
He’s fourteen. Gay and as this odd lady just told him – autistic. Tobias got into a fight at school which resulted in two months of weekly therapy and two sessions of whatever this is. They showed him pictures, gave him math problems to solve, asked him to make up stories… the list goes on. It was long, it was exhausting, and the outcome was less than satisfying. The last thing he wanted was to receive yet another label. His mum was waiting on one of the benches outside the clinic. Tobias handed her the stack of papers he was given before she even got a chance to say hi to him. As it turns out those papers contained even more attempts at trying to fit him into a box. He read them later that week with a plan to do precisely nothing with the information they held. His plan didn’t work out. That’s incorrect. His plan changed midway through reading the last paragraph.
“Tobias does not require pharmacological treatment; he could however benefit from various modifications to his environment and lifestyle. We recommend a 504 plan for Tobias and advise to continue his weekly psychotherapy sessions. As Tobias seems to display sensitivity to various stimuli, compensatory aids should be considered as well as teaching him coping strategies and ways to handle social relationships in order to prevent more aggressive behaviour from appearing.”
Aggressive is a strong word to describe self-defence. Whatever. He looked up compensatory aids and quickly decided he is not the target group for these. Although the idea of having something to dim the world around him seemed appealing. And after a minute or two of thinking he found out there’s a way to kill two birds with one rock. He wanted new headphones for ages. There were these really nice looking and well-reviewed ones that were also painfully expensive. Of course he wanted them for music…mainly, however the noise cancelling function was just as attractive to him as some crisp bassy sound. Technically he wouldn’t be lying. He’d just present them to his parents as an aid rather than a treat for himself. It is a terrifying amount of money, but it is less of an investment into a piece of technology and more of an investment into the wellbeing of their son. And if he paired it with a visible improvement in his behaviour after receiving said headphones all groups involved would be happy and satisfied. It’s not like he didn’t have any control over his behaviour. It was a conscious and informed decision to beat up that shitface. Tobias had been tormented by him since the first grade, of course he was gonna snap at some point. Or rather… choose to snap.
However, that was almost 20 years ago. Yet these memories kept flooding his head every day since meeting Gabin. They were similar in some ways and the exact same in others. And yet in majority of areas they were complete opposites. Yes, they were both confident and loud and assertive. They were both masters of their craft and they knew it. Yet Gabin was confident and loud and assertive even in situations that had nothing to do with ballet. He felt sure of himself, and that feeling wasn’t just tied to his abilities. He knew his voice deserved to be heard. Tobias was different. He didn’t feel sure of himself, but he did feel sure of his genius… most of the time. He was loud and assertive, but his confidence didn’t have stable support and could come crashing down any minute. He figured very early on that Gabin saw right through him. He was cocky and demanding because he knew he could. Gabin had him wrapped around his finger and barely anyone knew. Tobias had the upper hand; he made the decisions; he was supposed to be the one in power. Yet it wasn’t a power imbalance. It was a perfectly balanced dynamic which terrified Tobias. He was used to being high above all the dancers and now there was Gabin sharing the same ground with him. Neither of them had the upper hand and they both felt oddly okay with it yet horrified when thinking about the atmosphere they created. Tobias felt vulnerable and naked, especially seeing just how charming Gabin could be. He knew he could never match Gabin’s wit. Tobias wasn’t completely blind to the social world around him… he was just a bit short-sighted. But with Gabin’s nose almost touching his he could clearly see that this feeling blooming in his stomach was hardly one-sided. It was either mutual or Gabin had an even stranger understanding of personal space than he did.
Tobias wanted Gabin to see him whole with all his oddities and quirks. He obviously saw them already and not only that – he understood and respected them. Even the tiniest gesture such as putting Tobias’ headphones back onto his head had Tobias almost falling to his knees. From the outside perspective it might have looked like a power-move. An overconfident dancer ignoring his instructor’s boundaries, a gesture filled with arrogance. But it wasn’t that. It was an unspoken message. I see you; I see your struggles, I don’t mind. It was the best thing anyone has ever said to him and Gabin didn’t even have to say anything. It was one thing to accept someone’s differences if they hadn’t been named. Until his classmates found out Tobias was autistic, they have never bullied him for it. Instead, they bullied him for being “faggy” and for taking ballet classes. But once they found out about his 504 plan and the reason behind it their slur of choice changed from sissy to retard. If he was caught looking for a second too long at his classmates in the changing room, it wasn’t seen as gay anymore. It was seen as him being an autistic freak. He didn’t know which flavour of discrimination he preferred but he was sure that there was no need to be overly cautious about his sexuality around Gabin. He would have never told him, but Tobias was sure Gabin has heard his own fair share of homophobic comments and remarks. He wasn’t worried about his queerness not being accepted by Gabin and he also wasn’t worried about Gabin not being queer himself.
Even the act of coming out to his parents was less anxiety inducing than the idea of telling Gabin about the reason why his brain is the way it is. He rehearsed it, made a list of various reactions and/or questions Gabin could have and then wrote an answer to each. Yet the anxiety didn’t seem to plan on leaving.