Work Text:
The Significance of Clothes
It started with a stage outfit. Something assigned to him by a group of stylists who thought it would look nice on him, fit the concept of their recent comeback and make him look good, look nice.
A skirt.
The stylists had given him a skirt to wear. Well, not really a skirt. Does it even count if it’s only half of one? Really, more a piece of fabric than anything, more a piece of fabric than a skirt.
It was a plaid, black and white pleated skirt, attached to a thick leather belt—clearly meant to accentuate his thin waist—by metal rings. It didn’t look like a bad skirt, don’t get him wrong, even with half of it missing it looked nice, would probably be nice for a girl group doing a girl-crush concept, but he was a guy.
K-pop generally had a leniency towards what genders could wear and do. Men wore makeup and crop tops, women rapped and danced in more traditionally masculine ways, but a skirt? That wasn’t really one of the things held in the `acceptable for all’ category.
He must’ve been standing for too long, because the stylist who gave him his outfit is shooing him behind a changing screen quickly, taking the pile of clothes and giving it back to him before leaving him to change.
The shirt and pants are fine, nothing new, but he feels apprehension as he unbuckles the leather belt, pulling it around his waist before rebuckling it back in the front, the skirt laying on the left side of him.
The belt pulls the black sweater into his body, showing off his waist before the skirt flows out one on side of him, extending his body line and showing off the curve created in a fashionable asymmetrical way.
The stylist comes back over to him, pulling the clothes this way and that to get them perfectly in place, another retouching his hair and makeup, slightly messed up from pulling his shirt over his head.
After they finish fussing over him, they push him out, ushering him out to join the others on set for their new music video.
The filming is easy, just them dancing for this bit. It’s quite a set, the house in the background is `on fire’, giving everything a dark, slightly evil feel.
They go through the choreography a couple of times, using a few extra takes to film specific parts of it and give it emphasis, but overall the filming is relatively quick, and before he knows it they send him back to the dressing room to change into a new outfit.
It shouldn’t stick with him like this, but he can’t get the skirt out of his mind. The way it would flow around him when he jumped and spun, the way it made his waist and legs look nice.
It’s stupid, it wasn’t even an actual skirt! He only wore it for, at most, a couple of hours, so why can’t he forget it? Why is it lingering in his mind? Why does he want to see the skirt again, try it on again, wear it?
He walks over to his bed to sit down, running his hands down his face and letting out a sigh. He feels tired from thinking about it so much, trying not to think about it, hiding how his thoughts lingered on it.
It’s a skirt. Guys don’t wear skirts. Guys don’t think about wearing skirts all the time, so why am I? Why?
The sound of the door opening breaks him out of his thoughts, the others arriving back from the convenience store, so pushing everything to the back of his mind he stands up and heads out to help them put away the food, willing himself to forget about the skirt, distracting himself with getting ready for their comeback.
The dorm is empty. The maknaes and Beomgyu are at the company to do their online school, Yeonjun is practicing and looking over them, and Soobin is in bed, staring at his laptop screen.
The image on it isn’t lewd, but you would think it is with how much Soobin’s blushing. Biting the inside of his cheek, he looks over the picture, taking in its features. Dark blue fabric with pleats is shown. The fabric looks like a soft cotton, and the waist shows off how thin the model is.
It’s a skirt. Just say that. Going over its features won’t magically take away that fact.
He shouldn’t be here, looking at this, but he can’t help it. The memory of the skirt won’t leave him, and now he’s here, looking at a skirt online, considering buying it.
The price seems reasonable from what he can tell, although he doesn’t really have any previous reference for how expensive a skirt should be, and without his conscious thought, he finds himself looking at the sizing chart, looking for the measurements he knows matches with himself.
He doesn’t let himself think, shutting off all thoughts as he clicks `add to cart’, plugging in his information and the address of the dorm. By the time he’s gone through with it and verified everything, he’s sweating hard, and as the confirmation of his order, and the text telling him he’ll be notified of when it arrives appears on screen he slams the laptop shut, burying his head in his knees and wrapping his arms around himself.
He’s crying, he realizes, feeling his shoulders shake slightly and his knees getting wetter by the second.
Wow, look at you, and you claim to be a `man’. What are you? Crying, buying a skirt? Don’t seem like much of a man from here.
The thoughts only serve to make him cry harder, shame and fear swirling around in his mind as he continues to think about what he’s just done.
A ping is heard on his phone, and sniffing as he wipes off his eyes he looks down, clicking on the notification to see what the email is about, only to quickly put down his phone, crying harder seeing the tracking number for his order in the inbox.
It scares him, how much a simple piece of clothing is affecting his mental state, but it is, no matter how hard he tries, he couldn’t get it out of his mind, and now he can’t go back.
Now he has a skirt.
It arrives, thankfully, at the dorm, without any questions. Despite how it created a pit in his stomach, he’d checked where the skirt was every day, watching to see when it’d arrive, a sick mix if excitement and self-loathing crawling in his chest as it got closer every day. And now it’s here.
It’s in a plastic shipping bag, no labels except for the company it’s from, the sender and return address, and Soobin’s name. He signs off for it without any fanfare, and before he knows it, he’s in his room, holding the package with his shame inside. Holding his new skirt.
There’s no time to open it now, they have to leave for practice, giving him an excuse to put off everything. He takes the package and places it under his bed in a box with some old clothes that don’t have any place in their closet. The knowledge that it’s there is confusing his emotions, but there’s not time to think, and the rest of the boys are already heading down to the car.
The day seems to drag on forever, and despite trying to distract himself, the thoughts are always there, reminding him, At the dorm you have a skirt. It’s just sitting there, what are you going to do?
By the time they get home it’s late, and they all just want to sleep, the motions of getting ready so ingrained he doesn’t even realize that he’d gone through them until the next morning.
It’s like that for a while, the preparations for their comeback taking over their lives, free time nonexistent as photoshoot after recording after practice continues on and on, it’s not until a few weeks later that Soobin actually has some time off.
Their comeback is next week, but the company has given them the next couple of days off so that they can rest and do whatever they please before the hectic comeback schedule kicks in.
Soobin’s at the dorms again, luckily alone, and finally with some time to confront the situation. The package is in his hands, still unopened. Although he’s the only one there, the air is tense, and he can’t seem to do anything but look at the object in his hands.
Pressing on it helps. Feeling it through the packaging, it just seems like another piece of clothing. Without looking at it, he can pretend it’s not something shameful, not a skirt.
He goes to their kitchen and grabs their boxcutter. Walking back to his bed, the package lying on top of his sheets, staring at him, mocking.
This time, when he picks it up, it feels heavier. With apprehensive hands, he slides the boxcutter through the package, opening it. Reaching inside he grabs the fabric, pulling it out and laying it out on his bed without looking at it. Walking over to the counter, he puts away the boxcutter and throws away the package, taking a breath before heading back to his bed.
The skirt sits there. It’s nothing really, a bit of fabric, but what it means…Soobin’s mind is too jumbled to think about that.
There’s nothing left to stall. He’s alone, and the skirt is here, out of its packaging and waiting to be worn. It stares at him, as if saying What are you waiting for? You’ve already bought me, why haven’t you worn me yet?
It spurs him into action, letting his mind take the back seat as he takes off his pants, unzipping the skirt and pulling it on, zipping it back up and looking to the ceiling, working himself up.
The dorm has a full-length mirror in it, courtesy of Yeonjun because, "It’s a necessary feature of any house", and Soobin knows that when he turns around, he’ll be able to see himself in it, see how he looks. Part of him doesn’t want to, but the other part overrides it, I’ve gone this far, it would be a waste if I didn’t see how I looked after all of this.
The thought convinces him to turn around and...oh.
It looks nice. The skirt looks nice on Soobin, and he doesn’t really know what to do with this information.
Dark blue against his pale skin, the skirt is tight around his waist, although not uncomfortable. It flares out as it goes down, stopping mid-thigh. His shirt is awkwardly hanging over the top of the skirt, and without even thinking he tucks it into the skirt, automatically smoothing out the new bumps to make the skirt lay flat, and wow, it looks really good.
His legs look long, and his waist looks thin, the combination of the skirt flaring out and his shirt hanging loose before being pulled under the skirt making his waist look even smaller than it is.
Air swirls through his legs, making him aware of how bare they are. It feels nice, honestly. The skirts material is soft, and the air is cool, and all together the experience feels like nothing he’d expected.
Soobin continues to look at himself in the mirror, subconsciously starting to swivel his waist a bit, and somehow that’s even better than just standing still. It causes the skirt to flare out a bit more as it spins with him, and watching it makes him giggle a little, giddy at the feeling this is giving him.
He twirls a little, smiling and blushing while he looks at the image of himself in the mirror, skirt twirling around his figure, and he really can’t help but think that it makes him look nice.
Spinning more flares the skirt wide, and Shit! He thinks, pushing the skirt back down with his hands as it exposes his underwear, roughly jerking him back down to earth, back to realizing the he’s a guy wearing a skirt.
Giggles stopping, his smile tapers off, eyes widening as he realizes just what he’s doing.
White noise seems to fill Soobin’s ears as he drops to the ground. Feeling his eyes well up with tears, he fumbles, unzipping the skirt as fast as he can and shoving it off, throwing it under his bed where he can’t see it.
Air is becoming harder to pull into his lungs, and what a pathetic sight he must be. A 185cm, full grown man, hyperventilating and crying on the ground in his underwear after trying on a skirt.
How much more of a fuckup can I be. You’re supposed to be the leader, the leader of a boy group, what the fuck are you doing? Trying on skirts, pretending it’s normal for boys to like that? What will the others think if they see you like this? They’re gonna come home eventually, and what’ll they think when they see you, how much of a mistake you are? The thoughts come unbidden, each one feeling like a blow, hitting his back and making him curl in on himself more.
By the time he stands back up an hour has passed. His eyes feel puffy, head floaty, as if it’s been stuffed full of cotton.
The others will likely start coming home soon, and if he looks even half as terrible as he feels there’ll be questions.
Getting up, Soobin drags himself to his bed, arms and legs feeling weighed down as he draws the covers over himself, curling up and letting sleep blur his thoughts.
Here’s the thing, he should’ve thrown away the skirt, or at least hid it after he threw it under his bed. The problem was, if he did that, he’d have to look at the skirt again, have to face the fact that, yes, he bought and wore a skirt, and yes, he enjoyed it.
But he didn’t do anything to hide the skirt, just left it sitting under his bed, and that’s why he’s currently sitting on his bed, eyes wide and a blush high on his cheeks as Kai asks him about what the skirt he found is.
"Hyung, what..." Kai starts, holding up the skirt he’d just retrieved from under Soobin’s bed, "What’s this?"
Soobin looks down at his hands in his lap. His cheeks feel warm, and his eyes are getting blurry, Stupid tears, giving me away.
He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, "It’s nothing."
Kai’s eyes flash with worry, clearly not convinced at all. "Who’s is it?"
Soobin doesn’t answer, just curls farther into himself.
"Is it a friend’s?"
"..."
"Significant other?"
"..."
A sigh. "Hyung, I don’t want to assume anything...but is the skirt yours?"
It feels like a slap to have someone else say the skirt is his, causing Soobin to let out a small sob, nodding his head so slightly that Kai would’ve missed it had he not been right next to Soobin.
His shoulders shake, and more sobs bubble their way past his lips, hot tears sliding down his face. It’s an admission, to himself, to Kai, to the world, that’s his skirt in Kai’s hands, he wore a skirt, and he liked it.
He doesn’t register Kai sitting down next to him, only notices when he feels the heavy duvet pulled around his shoulders and Kai’s hand rubbing up and down Soobin’s back. It starts to clear the fog around his brain, allowing him to register what Kai’s saying.
"Shhhh, let it out. It’s okay hyung, it’s okay." The words are comforting, akin to how one would comfort a crying child who knew they’d done something wrong and felt bad about it.
Soobin’s sobs eventually start to taper off. He takes cool, deep breaths of air into his lungs, holding them there for a few seconds before letting them out again. His face is red and puffy when he lifts it from his knees, eyes over sensitive to the bright lights of the dorm. His breaths are still shaky, but Kai’s hands, firm running up and down his back, help to ground him in the moment again.
Kai moves them so that they’re facing each other, hands still petting his back. "You know it’s okay, right hyung?" The words bring Soobin’s eyes up to Kai’s. "It’s okay to want to wear skirts."
Soobin shakes his head. No, it’s not okay. It’s not okay for me to want to wear a skirt, I’m the leader and I’m a guy!
Kai’s eyes fill with an emotion Soobin doesn’t want to identify. "What if I wanted to wear a skirt? Or any of the other hyungs?"
Soobin looks back up, eyes wide. "Of...of course I would...would support you guys!" He can’t get the words out easily, stuttering as his chest heaves at the effort, and he’s shocked at the implication that he would ever not support them in anything!
"So why is it different when it’s you hyung?" Kai asks, grabbing Soobin’s hands, giving him what Soobin can only assume is a look of pity. "Why would you allow us to wear skirts but not yourself?"
Soobin shakes his head. "It’s different...you’re not...I’m..." He trails off, looking down at his hands, his large hands that scream This is a man! This is not someone who should be wearing skirts!
"Did you like when you wore the skirt?" Kai asks, voice soft and comforting.
A nod.
"Do you want to wear the skirt again?"
Another nod, more hesitant this time.
Kai sighs, squeezing Soobin’s hands between his. "Hyung, it’s okay to want to wear a skirt, I won’t think of you any differently, and neither will any of the hyungs. We all love you, and just because you like to wear skirts doesn’t change that."
"But…but it’s-"
"No hyung! There is nothing wrong with wanting to wear a skirt as a guy! Why would you hold yourself to a different standard than the rest of us for this situation when you’re clearly hurting because of it!" Kai’s eyes are starting to tear up and his hands are shaking.
"Please," he asks, "Please don’t hurt yourself with something as stupid as gender roles assigned by a bigoted society." Kai’s voice is soft again and his eyes shine with unshed tears for his hyung.
Soobin pulls Kai in for a hug, tightly winding his arms around the other for comfort. "Okay," he breathes, " Okay Hueningie, I won’t."
They like that for a while, Kai assuring Soobin it’s okay and Soobin assuring Kai that he won’t beat himself up anymore. Kai’s the one to break the bubble first.
"So, " he starts "Do you want to wear the skirt now?"
Soobin blushes, "I’ve only actually worn it once..." he mumbles.
"What! Why?"
"After I wore it for the first time, I got scared and threw it under my bed and, well, you know..." Soobin trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, blushing.
Kai practically jumps up. "Well now you have to wear it!" He pulls Soobin up with him, shoving the skirt into his hands. "I refuse to let you deny yourself this any longer!" He states matter-of-factly, pushing Soobin towards the bathroom to change while loudly announcing to the empty dorm how Soobin will have to show all his future skirt to him so that he can make sure Soobin isn’t denying himself anymore.
Bathroom door closed behind him, Soobin starts to change into the skirt, a smile making its way onto his features.
I could get used to this.
Once Kai knows, everything feels so much easier. Having someone to talk with, someone who doesn’t judge him—if anything, Kai encourages him—for being himself, it’s like someone lifted a weight off of his shoulders.
He’s bought more skirts, and whenever he’s alone or with Kai, he can just wear them, and that freedom is amazing, but there’s still one thing that he can’t help but feel scared about. The other members don’t know.
Kai has been great don’t get him wrong. Kai has always been there for him, always been the one he’s closest with, but keeping it from the other members, from family, especially when he’s the leader, it feels terrible. He shouldn’t have to keep anything from them, but he kept this from them.
That being said, he definitely didn’t want them to find out like this. This being Beomgyu holding up one of his skirts and asking where it came from after finding it in the wash.
"So...who brought a girl to the dorm?"
The words wash over Soobin, cold, and he looks around for Kai, waiting for him to meet his eyes, trying to communicate his fear.
Beomgyu whines, "Come on guys, I thought we told each other everything." And wow, that one felt like a personal attack.
Kai is giving him a pointed look, urging him to use this opportunity.
Taehyun looks bored with the questions, and Yeonjun just looks confused by the appearance of the skirt. "How could any of us have brought a girl here, we barely have time here ourselves, much less to bring someone over."
"Then how come there was a skirt in the washing machine?" Beomgyu asks, clearly wanting to figure out the story. "If there wasn’t a girl, how could a skirt be here?"
Kai seems to decide this is his moment and jumps in. "Who said the skirt belongs to a girl? A guy could’ve had the skirt." He offers up, clearly trying to give Soobin a window to tell them.
Beomgyu looks a bit lost at the comment, clearly not expecting it.
Taehyun finally decides to jump in. "I think the real question is, why is the skirt with our clothes? If there was someone else at the dorm, why are their clothes being washed with ours?" The comment only further confuses an already confused Yeonjun, whose brain Soobin can practically see working into overdrive.
"The skirt is mine." The words are quiet, barely audible to the others, who all—excluding Kai who was already watching him—turn to look at him.
Their stares make him shrink backwards towards the wall behind his bed, his large body somehow looking smaller than all of them.
"It’s my skirt, there was no one else at the dorm." The words tumble out as he shrinks even further back. This seems to break them out of their silence, causing them to move towards him, asking questions.
Taehyuns the first to speak, ever the logical one. "You’re not just saying that to protect one of us from admitting something, right hyung?" He asks.
Yeonjun lightly hits Taehyun’s arm. "Taehyun, you can’t just say that, it could make him feel bad."
"N-no, it was a valid question." Soobin says, still not meeting their eyes. "A-and no, the skirt is really mine." His voice is still quiet, unsure.
"Soobinie, you know we’d never judge you for something like that, right?" Yeonjun questions, leaning forwards and patting Soobin’s cheeks softly.
He nods. "Yeah, I know...it’s just...it’s just hard for me to accept, I guess."
Beomgyu steps forward, a hand under his chin, eyes unsure, "You’re not-do you-do you feel like you’re a girl, hyung?"
Soobin shakes his head, biting his lip. "No, I don’t feel like a girl, I just..." A blush colors his cheeks, "I just like wearing skirts. The way they make me look and feel...it’s nice." The end comes out mumbled, but Yeonjun still jumps forwards, grabbing at his cheeks and mushing them.
"Ah, so cute!" He says, watching Soobin’s cheeks color more and giggling.
Taehyun looks over, seeming to realize someone hasn’t yet taken part in the conversation. "Hey Kai, don’t you have any questions?"
He just shakes his head, smiling over at Soobin. "Nah, I already knew." Yeonjun looks betrayed. "After all, Soobin hyung is my gum!" He bursts into aegyo at the end, running forwards and forcing them all into a hug.
After hugging for a while, a serious look suddenly crosses Yeonjun’s face and he pulls away. "You do know what this means, right Soobin?"
Nervous, Soobin shakes his head, worried at what Yeonjun’s about to say to him.
"You have to model every skirt you have immediately for us, and every future skirt you get!" Finality is attached to his words, and Soobin immediately eases at hearing them, laughing a bit.
Ah Yeonjun, ever the fashionista. "Hueningie said the same thing when he found out." No longer worried, he leans back into the warmth of the other boys.
"Um, did you hear me?" Yeonjun says, pulling him up onto his feet. "I said immediately, as in now, so show us your skirt stash and get to modeling!" It’s said in such a no-nonsense way that Taehyun snorts, laughing at the tone.
Beomgyu and Kai start to laugh as well, and pretty soon they’re all laughing as he grabs the box of skirts from under his bed to pull it out.
Yeah, everything turned out okay.