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Denial | Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Transmale!Reader Oneshot

Warnings/Tags : Brief mentions of sex, internalized transphobia, anxiety, vomiting, angst and fluff

A/N : This would be my second one shot that I’ve posted, I hope y’all like it :3

AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/55254895

The footsteps in the living room echoed throughout the hall—a sound you’ve memorised so much it’s ingrained in your head. The steps get louder and louder, and when they stop, you then hear a sudden knock on the door of your room. The door opens slightly, the light from outside shining into the darkness of your room. You see his shadow cast on the walls, the outline of his handsome features, and his body highlighted by the soft light of the hallway.

“I’m going out now; I'm probably going to buy a few snacks from the 7-11 nearby. You want anything, mate?”

There it was the familiar voice of the one who made your heart race—the one that made your feet turn cold and made the butterflies flutter around in your stomach. Kyle Garrick, your college roommate, the one you were lucky enough to have instead of any other roommate.

“Maybe a bag of crisps and some chocolate, thanks.” You answer with a warm smile, trying to hide the fact that your heart is about to pump itself out of your chest.

He was the perfect man, you thought. He was smart and sweet, a gentleman when he needed to be, and dammit, the tiny fangs of his teeth peek out when he smiles cheekily at you, making you feel giddy and lovestruck. He’s taken care of you when you were ill, and he’s always been by your side, platonically.

You were mere friends with him, something that always hit you hard and shattered whatever fantasies you had about him. Everything you had done together has been platonic—something roommates do for each other—and that it meant nothing more than just being good friends. Whether it be the cuddling sessions you both would have on the couch while the television was on, sleeping together on the same bed when you both needed the comfort, cooking each other food when the other was in a bad mood, kissing each other everywhere on the face except the lips, or borrowing each other's clothes. All of it was platonic, or so you thought.

You sat there on your bed as you thought about your crush on Kyle, the dark room hiding your flushed expression before you plopped back down on the bed. You squeal into your pillow at the small interaction, your cheeks turning warm when you remember his mellow voice. You’ve fallen for the man hard, and it was only time until you confessed to him. But you couldn't—not when you’re a girl to him.

Kyle was gay, something he’d known for a long time. He came out to you, and he trusted you fully to tell you that. It took a lot for him to gather up the courage to tell you, and tears were shed the day he did. You hugged him tightly and let him cry on your shoulder. The poor guy feared you were going to hate him for it, but you accepted him with open arms. You reassured him that you were supportive, that you liked him regardless, and that him being gay was not going to ruin your friendship. And things have been alright since then, with the two of you being closer than ever and having a great friendship overall.

That was until you had to sleep through countless nights hearing loud bed creaks and various noises of Kyle getting fucked by other men every other night, and it haunts you knowing Kyle was having fun with other men and not you. Sometimes you met the men in the mornings, seeing Kyle be all lovey-dovey and affectionate with them while you simply tried to get a bowl of cereal. You would catch a glimpse of Kyle smiling softly as he laid his chin on the other man’s shoulder, hugging the man from behind while pressing kisses to his neck. And at first, you coped by knowing Kyle was finally happy after years of hiding his true self and that his happiness mattered more than your desires. But it soon turned into resentment and jealousy, wishing that those men were you and that Kyle loved you as much as them.

Soon you snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the front door open, and you rushed out with your hoodie and smiled when you saw Kyle’s presence.

“What’cha got there? Got me the crisps and chocolate that I wanted?” You asked cheekily before you went rummaging in the plastic bag for what you wanted.

“Of course, I got your favourite ones too.” He pulled you out by the scruff of your neck like you were a cat before handing you the stuff he bought. “I figured you were hungry and bought you more stuff; you're welcome.” He smiled as he also gave you a cup of noodles and a hotdog, kissing you on the temple before he went back to his room.

Your heart raced again, the familiar thumping of your heart as the kiss lingered on your temple. It was a platonic kiss; that was all that it was, and you knew that better than anyone. He was affectionate with you, but it wasn’t the same; those small cheek or temple kisses weren’t the same as the ones he gave to his flings or ex’s; it was all platonic.

You couldn’t blame him at all; it was your fault that you’re like this. Maybe you could’ve had a chance if you wore masculine clothes and tried to ‘look like’ a man, but no, you were feminine and wore feminine clothes to cope with the fact that you’ll never be the boy you want to be, especially not a boy Kyle would ever love. Makeup and girly clothes were all you’ve known, never having the guts to come out to anyone, so you remain the girl that everyone knows and loves—except Kyle would never love you.

For a while, things were normal, and you barely cared about Kyle and your problems since you were drowning in a pile of assignments and projects that needed to be done. But then it happened again; it was another one of those off days where nothing went right and those thoughts came back. You couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror without having to see the person you’ve become; you couldn’t recognise yourself under all those frilly clothes and pinky makeup. You hear laughter out the door; it was Kyle and probably another one of his flings again. “Great.” You mumbled, knowing what kind of night this would be. It didn’t help that you were spiralling as it is, your dysphoria and anxiety spiking the more you thought about Kyle and yourself. You were on the brink of tears, your body didn't feel right and you wished to tear your skin right off. This wasn't you, or well a version of you that you despised.

Wanting to get some fresh air you tried to leave your room, only to be met with the sight of Kyle kissing another man with a smile on his face before waving him off as the stranger left the apartment. Jealousy surged through your veins, and then the sudden realisation hit you hard. You're never going to get this, not when you're like this. Your stomach churned, and you suddenly felt sick. Of all things, this wasn’t what you needed for tonight. And without even acknowledging Kyle, you rushed back into your room and straight to the toilet, where you retched everything into the bowl. Kyle ran to you immediately out of concern, kneeling beside you and rubbing your back as you emptied out your stomach.

“What’s wrong? Did you eat something bad? Are you sick?” Kyle asked frantically, panicking while he helped wipe your mouth and walking you to your bed. You sat there, faint and weak, leaning against Kyle’s body. You couldn’t get the images of Kyle’s flings out of your mind—the man you’ve loved for so long, knowing the love would never be reciprocated. The jealousy was eating you inside, and it wasn't just jealousy that Kyle had eyes for other people, but the people Kyle liked were attractive looking. You could never look like them.

“M'fine…” You mumble inaudibly, trying your best not to show Kyle that you were having almost going to have an anxiety attack. Kyle looked down at you, placing a hand on your forehead to check for a fever.

“You’re warm; are you sure you’re fine?” Kyle frowned as he saw your weak state, keeping you comfortable on his body as you weakly lean on him, head beside his shoulders. You nod your head, but Kyle didn’t believe that you were fine.

The way Kyle held you, his soft and mellow voice comforting you at your worst. You couldn’t help but fall for him even more. You hated yourself for being so vulnerable in front of him. You mumble to him, “Would you ever like me?” Kyle blinked in confusion at the question, an awkward silence taking over the room.

“I do like you, though.”

“Not in that way; you know what I mean.”

Silence filled the room again, and Kyle shifted nervously.

“You know I’m gay, right? I’m not into women.”

“And I'm not a woman!”

“Forget it. Just leave.” You groan and push yourself away from Kyle, lying on the bed while turning away from him. Kyle didn’t say anything; he simply stood up and left the room like you asked him to.

Weeks went by, and you both haven’t spoken to each other since you’ve avoided him even when he wished to speak to you. Locking yourself in your room all the time, only ever coming out when you had classes. You noticed that Kyle hadn’t brought anyone over, but you didn’t think much of it. You were rotting in your bed and barely eating these days, but as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock on the door.

“Mate, please let me in.” Kyle pleaded, and you could hear the desperation in his voice as he continued to knock on your door. And for whatever reason, you lazily woke up and opened the door.

Kyle’s face held a worried expression, frowning when he saw your dishevelled appearance and your messy room. He knew you weren’t taking care of yourself. Your eyebags grew deeper and darker, face paler and duller than before, Kyle could tell you weren't alright. There was a plate of food in his hand—something he cooked up just for you.

“You can’t keep avoiding me, love.” He said this as he barged into your room, sitting on the edge of your bed with the plate set down on the bedside table. “I care about you; please talk to me. I can’t stand not talking to you.” His eyes pleaded with yours, begging you to take care of yourself even with just a simple plate of food. He took your hand into his, his thumb gently tracing circles at the back of your hand. You missed the feeling of his soft hands touching you affectionately, or maybe you just missed him.

“I ruined it, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to ruin our friendship.” You spoke, and Kyle’s expression softened when he heard your faint voice speaking to him.

“You didn’t ruin anything; it wasn’t your fault.” He smiled softly as he sneaked his arm around your shoulder, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You looked up at him in confusion.

“I shouldn’t have confessed. I’m sorry.” Kyle laughed as you said that, but he wasn’t laughing at you. He looked at you and smiled widely—the kind of smile that makes your heart flutter. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his hand rubbing on your arm as a way to reassure you.

“You know, when I say I care about you, I mean it. I care about you way more than I should, and I think you know what I mean. So there's nothing to be sorry about lovey, I'm glad you confessed. ” Kyle’s words made you freeze, your mouth agape as you wanted to speak, but no words were coming out.

“You don’t have to say anything; just believe my words, yeah?”

“But I’m a woman to you, aren’t I? You don’t like women.”

“You’re not a woman to me; you don’t have to keep pretending that you are one from now on.”

"Kyle-"

“You’re a man; you always have been and always will be, especially to me. You got that?”

For the first time, you felt comfortable in your own skin, as if the mask you've worn for so long had just broke and fallen from your face and you'd been laid bare in front of Kyle, and he loved you regardless. Tears brim your eyes, a small pout forming on your lips before you plant your face against the fabric of Kyle’s shirt to absorb the tears. He chuckles at the sight and hugs you tightly, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m a bit sad you didn’t tell me sooner; you didn’t have to hide it from me. I trusted you with my secret; now it's your turn to trust me.” He said as his hand cupped your cheek, a gentle look in his eyes as he made you look at him. Your glassy eyes stared at Kyle’s, and he gently wiped away the tears that stained your now-warm cheeks.

“I don’t look like a man; I feel ashamed to even call myself one when I wear dresses and put on makeup. How can you call me a man?” You replied as you rubbed your eyes, leaning comfortably on Kyle as you spoke.

“You’re still a man even when you wear dresses and make-up. You've seen me wear skirts and put on some make-up before, didn't make me less of a man, did it?”

"That's different, Kyle. I look like a woman; I just don’t understand why you like me.” You said it bluntly, and he could only giggle at how blunt you were being.

“Maybe I’ve always liked you; I just thought it was platonic.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“I’m not, I swear!”

You whacked him on the arm while he continued to laugh, in turn making you crack a small smile at him.

“Look, maybe there was a part of me that denied my attraction to you when I thought you were a woman. Now that I know you’re not, I feel more comfortable liking you. Does that make sense?”

He explained while you continued laying against him, your smile widening the more Kyle spoke. Your cheeks were red, and your body became warmer. The thought that Kyle had always liked you made you happy.

“What about those men?”

“You mean when I bring people over? I knew I was gay for way too long, so when I started liking you, I thought I was wrong about my sexuality. I started sleeping with more guys to distract myself, I guess. But rest assured, I’m still gay, and I like you.”

You fell into silence, thoughts swirling in your head while you listened to Kyle. Kyle knew you were deep in thought; he could see how much you were struggling to believe him. You still had doubts and insecurities yelling at you that 'this was all some big prank. Or that Kyle was actually bi and he sees you as a woman. He couldn’t have liked you. How could he have liked you? You look nothing like a man, and Kyle liked you. Does he like women too, then? Maybe this is all a big joke, and Kyle is just playing with you. What if he pities you and he’s just pretending to like you? Are you just trapping him in a false queer relationship? Maybe-'

You felt a sudden warmth on your lips, snapping you out of your thoughts as you felt Kyle’s lips on yours. His hands cupped your face lovingly, tilting it up so he could kiss you. His lips were soft and warm on yours; it was addicting. You closed your eyes and savoured the moment, reciprocating the kiss with the same gentleness he had.

“You think too much, lovey.” Kyle mumbled cheekily as he pulled away from you, smiling before gently kissing your forehead. But this time it didn’t feel platonic; no, the kiss was romantic and one you’ve longed for since you met him.

“I love you.”

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