Work Text:
"Shit!!"
Now usually, Timothy was not one for "bad words." But this was an exception for an exceptionally shitty situation. Starting your period in a boys bathroom, with no pads or sanitary belts.
Tim was freaking out & shaking his hands, on a toilet, while trying to keep quiet from screaming. But it came out in small quiet whimpers.
On one hand, he could totally let out a pitiful wail. On the other hand, he'd rather not get beat up in a bathroom by Marty & Rick. While basically bleeding out.
He heard the main bathroom door click open & footsteps enter the bathroom.
Timothy did his best to keep quiet, tears pricking his eyes while he gnawed at his fingertips. He resisted the urge to tap his foot as whoever it was, washed their hands in the sink.
As they pulled at the lever for brown paper towels for their wet hands, Timothy got a glimpse of doodled shoes. His own handwriting on the left side.
Ron was practically at the door before he heard a sad sound. He didn't know how to explain it (In English, anyway.) But he couldn't bring himself to leave. Not just yet. Not before finding who made it.
"Uh.. Ron?" Timothy did his best to keep his voice from cracking, but a break made itself well-known in his tone. How could Ron not recognize that voice? The one from the video store & the hallway? The one with the hands that grabbed his arm?
"Timothy? Why you sad in bathroom?" He walked towards the front of Timothy's stall. Not the last one in the corner, but next to it.
Great. Timothy's got him to stay, but how does he explain himself? Before he realizes it he's crying, sniffles & eye rubbing taking over his ability to speak. His sneaker is patting against the floor with haste & his other leg is beginning to fall asleep.
"I-I-I.. Ron.." It's the only thing he can manage to get out, & even that hard with the tightness in his throat.
To say Ron was startled would be wrong. He knew Timothy was.. sensitive. & he already knew he sounded sad even before he said any words. He wants to help & hug him with longing, but the bathroom was meant to be a place of privacy.
"Tim.. Anything I can do?" He leans on the door to try & keep the air with normalcy for them.
Like they both hadn't heard that boys shouldn't cry before.
He can't tell Ron like this. Not here, not now, not with this! He'll never let him know unless it becomes a problem, in a different area. Who can he tell though?? Ken was caring, but god awfully scary. What class does Jolie have right now? Jackson is not an option at all. But neither is keeping Ron in the dark anymore.
Tim sobs a sign through his tears, folds his hands in his lap, & stares at the stall door where Ron would be.
"C-Can you go to the consoler? Or-Or nurse's.. Uhm… P-Please?" He hiccups in his calmness, keeping the air from getting stagnant while Ron processes what he may need.
"Of course, anything for Timmy. What you need from them?"
Timothy knew the hardest part would be clarifing. But it's so much easier thought of than said. "Uh.. Ask for some pads."
He tries to be more confident in his sentence, but it's not there.
Ron doesn't even need a double take. No second guessing or strange questions. He gets up off the door, pops his bubble gum, & tells Timothy he'll be back.
Timothy hears the door shut & is filled with relief. It's oddly comforting that Ron is gone, but Tim's so glad he's coming back.
While Ron death glares the nurse into giving him sanitary "women's" products, Timothy tries his best to clean himself up. Transferring snot from his sleeve & nose to the thin toilet paper to his right. Ron snarling at any student who gives him a funny look with the pads in his hand.
Timothy looks & feels better when Ron opens the main door again.
Timothy hates the voice crack left over from his crying when he tries to awkwardly greet Ron.
Ron doesn't feel the tension Timothy does. He definitely notices the crack though. "Hey. How you want these?" He gestures to the napkins in his hand even if Timothy can't see it.
"Uh, just pass them through the bottom please." & Ron listens. He bends over to reach the footing of the door, & hands take away the pads from his.
There's sound of shuffling & crinkling that Ron's not trying to pay attention to in the quiet bathroom, but there's not much else to hear. Eventually, Timothy's out of the stall & making a bee line for the sink. Ron casually walks up next to him whilst the water runs.
"I-I can explain." Tim ushers it out, like if his reasoning isn't good enough he won't be good enough. He dodging eye contact by splashing water on his face to remove tear stains on his cheeks.
Ronald shrugs to ease Tim's tension, looking at the wall behind him. "No need, my dad same way."
Water's dripping off Timothy's wet face, while his hands are frozen in the sink. Ron takes his chance & uses a brown paper towel to wipe off his face with care. It's all so unreal Timothy forgets where he is.
He almost forgets to speak. "S-So you're okay with it? You understand?" Ron pops his gum again while throwing away the brown paper & getting a new one for Timothy's hands. "Yeah. No need to explain. Still a boy. You listen to cassettes from Saturday?"
Sure, Timothy wasn't used to having to not explain what being transgender was. But skipping the 30 minute lecture & similes was an absolute bonus. Timothy dried his hands, adjusted his backpack, & followed Ron through the bathroom door while trying to explain his guess on translations. & the bathroom was left in silence.