Work Text:
Timmy has been seeing red since first period started when Elle Evans gave him the stink eye during English literature class.
It's not really because of the stink eye, Timmy thinks. Elle's face could just be fucked up like that. Timmy is pissed because of the reason why said stink eye has been given.
Ever since the school semester started, rumors have been going around campus that Marco Peña has been locking tongues with Elle Evans, a senior-wannabe sophomore who just happens to climb the high school hierarchy like it's some Olympic sport she's driven to ace.
The same hierarchy Timmy Andrews has fallen out of favor of when his belly started to stick out more than the usual bloatedness only crappy American school cafeteria food could give you.
Timmy tried to hide his pregnancy, wearing oversized t-shirts and suffocating sweaters just so he could hide his little interloper. But luck has never been on his side, and ever since he entered the second trimester, his belly just decided to make itself known.
Him carrying his bump low, exactly between his hips, with his popped-out navel as its crowning glory, didn't help his situation at all. So, he's basically this season's new loser. It's quite a fall from his previous status as resident bully, but he’d rather be a social pariah than a horrible human being.
The kid needs someone to look up to anyway… and they only have him so, yay for character development.
Despite being a complete outcast by now, Timmy still has the girls in his corner... and Marco. Well... he had Marco.
Then Timmy had to fuck it up by being a hormonal bitch.
Marco, for all his Chad variant popularity, is kind and compassionate. He and Timmy have been friends since they started working in that small burrito place a few blocks away from the public swimming pool. He was nice... gorgeous looking and just a general great thing in Timmy's recently miserable life.
Then one thing led to another.
Summertime sadness was playing on the radio, Marco just bought a new couch. It was green, which ew, but also really comfy. And Marco really liked popping tic tacs so his breath would smell like cool menthol. Timmy also wanted to have that but Marco ran out so he just went for it and dived right into his mouth, sat on his lap, without any fucking underwear…
And now…
Now Timmy's got a killer backache, ankles that could rival Brendan Fraser's in the Whale, and a stomach that is as large as a medium-sized planet.
The girls joke that they're somehow just orbiting around him these days.
Timmy knows they’re only kidding but it still made him cry.
The thing is…
Marco decided to date this pre-K, plain white bread girly while knowing full well Timmy is carrying his child.
He even asked her to go to prom with him.
And now said girly is giving Timmy the stankiest stink eye, ever to be stanked, and Timmy has no patience dealing with a reject from Toddlers and Tiaras. Really who the fuck does she think she is?
“Marco!” Timmy yells from across the hallway as he tries his best not to waddle towards the apple of his anger.
His belly leads the way and while people are a little bit brave now with his fallen status, enough to call him stupid names, their survival instincts are still pretty much intact.
No one would want to face a six-foot pregnant, hormonal, delinquent who has, or had, the tendency to just throw people onto the lockers when he has a random bad day.
Timmy changed. He knows that.
He never does those things anymore. It’s not the best idea to just throw fists when he is quite literally hogging his child around.
Well… until now. He really badly wants to do that today with a particular someone. Self-preservation be damned.
The sea of teenagers parts in his presence.
Good.
“Tim-“ Marco barely says before Timmy cuts him.
“Yeah, hey,” Timmy says sarcastically, “I just found out that you asked Elle Evans to prom,” Timmy cuts to the chase.
“Uh, yeah,” Marco rubs the back of his neck and closes his locker, “she’s part of the swim team, and… we just decided to go together like um… other members of the team-“
God, Timmy is fucking fuming. Here he is, pregnant and sweating and being the butt of every fucking joke this side of the planet while Marco's just there, existing like a fucking teenage Adonis, going to prom and being part of the swim team, like his life is not royally fucked up like Timmy’s with their impending parenthood.
“Well, I would really fucking appreciate it if your girlfriend stops giving me the stink eye,” Timmy says under one breath. He’s dropped his bag to the floor in his anger, looking at Marco’s stupidly fucking beautiful face- “She’s really been at it with me during English class. I know I’m fucking pregnant, but I could beat her ass if she wants a piece of me-“
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Marco says immediately, “I just asked her to prom because she’s the only person I know who would come-“
Timmy scoffs loudly at that, “The only person you know?” he emphasizes the know and gestures down at his belly, “I mean, except the person who’s carrying your spawn of course-“
“You broke up with me last weekend-“ Marco spits out, “You told me you never wanted to see me again. Also, you told me proms suck, why are you so hung up that I’m taking someone else-“
“Because you’re not supposed to!” Timmy shouts, barely controlling himself. His vision fuzzes in the corners, and he can feel his tears running down the side of his swollen cheeks, “You’re not supposed to have this normal life while I…” have to deal with this miserable pregnancy is left unsaid.
Timmy’s breath hitches and he puts his hands on his belly.
He could feel the baby kicking crazy. Maybe they woke up with the shouting. Timmy tries to control the volume of his voice but Marco beats him to it.
“Tim-“ Marco gently says, “do you want me to take you to prom?”
“No-,” Timmy says petulantly, “there’s about a million fucking things that I would find much more exciting than going to prom with you, like being hit by a truck full of garbage juice or going to a Joel Osteen concert-“ god why is he such a vindictive bitch.
“You’re being immature,” Marco says resignedly.
“And you’re being a fucking dick-“ Timmy sobs out, “go take your toddler girlfriend to prom, I don't give a fu-“
Marco gently kisses his mouth and wraps his arms around him.
“I told you she’s not my girlfriend,” Marco whispers on his lips, “Also, she’s not giving you the stink eye, that’s just her face.”
“I still fucking hate her,” Timmy quietly says.
“Please don’t,” Marco lifts Timmy’s bag from the floor and wears it on his shoulder, “she’s really nice if you get to know her…”
“And why would I want that-“ Timmy says..
“Well, you don’t have to,” Marco responds. He wraps an arm around Timmy as they walk out of the hallway.
“Squirt giving you a hard time?” Marco asks, shielding Timmy from the crowd of students as they leave the campus.
“She’s beating the shit out of me,” Timmy pouts, laying a hand on top of his belly and leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Maybe she wants a burrito?” Marco whispers in his ear, “Do you want a burrito?”
“Yeah,” Timmy rubs his face on Marco’s flannel shirt, “I’m so fucking hungry.”
“I’ll make you that Mexican style wrap-“
“With beans?”
“With all the beans you want.”