melaniem54 · 9 months ago
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Review: On Thin Ice: A Young Adult Gay Romance Series (Chesterford Coyotes Book 2) by RJ Scott and V.L. Locey
Rating: 5🌈 Chesterfield Coyotes is an excellent YA LGBTQIA hockey series from R.J. Scott and V.L. Locey. A YA spinoff from the original ‘Harrisburg Railers’ hockey series, the Chesterfield Coyotes continues to be very successful at bringing the reader into a high school environment. One acknowledged as competitive, often stressful, whether that world is a private or public high school. Each…
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guardianspirits13 · 20 days ago
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Happy Coming Out Day to Charles Rowland, and Charles Rowland only.
I hope you figure your shit out soon lil buddy 👍
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oldmannapping · 1 year ago
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HC:
Reporter: What do you have to say to criticism that for years, the Robin role was filled solely by straight, cis white males?
Nightwing: I’m not white.
Red Hood: I’m not white.
Red Robin: I’m not… Well I’m white...
The camera lingers for an awkward moment before an offended Spoiler jumps into frame and protests girl-Robin erasure.
Later, someone puts the short close up of Red Robin’s response in slow motion with rainbow filters and dance music, and it‘s a viral joke in Gotham for two weeks.
It’s mostly forgotten for years until Red Robin goes to Pride and casually mentions that he’s already come out years ago. The clip resurfaces and people are like, “Wait, that was it??? That was real???”
Because Tim Drake has extensive media training but Red Robin is a chaotic bisexual disaster with no filter.
And that’s my headcannon of how Red Robin comes out in a way that’s so dumb, most people don’t even realise he’s done it.
(Bonus headcanon: Bernard was the creator of the original viral clip and was infuriated at the time because people thought it was a joke but it was SO OBVIOUS that Red Robin was coming out. Why couldn’t everyone see it?)
(EDIT: This recipe can also be used for gay, trans, or ace Tim - just adjust the ingredients to your personal preference.)
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bootdork · 1 year ago
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hairmetal666 · 2 months ago
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"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.
Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.
Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.
"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."
"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."
And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."
Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."
It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.
Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."
"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.
"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.
She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.
"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.
---
Three Months Later
Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--
"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."
"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."
He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.
"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.
"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."
And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.
All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--
Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."
He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."
---
Two Months After That
Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.
There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.
"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.
"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."
This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"
Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.
"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."
It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.
"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.
Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.
"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.
Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."
"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."
"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."
And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.
Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"
His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.
They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.
Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."
He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.
---
Six Years Later
They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.
Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.
"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."
Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.
It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"
With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."
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polniaczek · 9 months ago
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Taylor Tomlinson: Have It All (2024)
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dean-is-love · 3 months ago
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dean and cassie doing their nails and being bisexual
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toneelspeelster · 28 days ago
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global superstar mother sarah nelson
heartstopper season 3 (2024)
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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months ago
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When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.
But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”
Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.
“Uh. You do?”
“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”
Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.
And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.
As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.
She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.
She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.
But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.
Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.
He felt free and alive and-
Queer.
It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.
He froze.
“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.
“I think I’m in love with my friend.”
Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”
“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”
“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”
Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.
“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.
“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.
“She’s gay, man.”
“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”
Steve laughed. “You’re right.”
He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.
“I’m in love with Eddie.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”
Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”
“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”
“Sulking? Why?”
“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”
“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.
“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.
“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”
“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”
“And be careful with you.”
He saluted her as he walked away.
When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.
He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.
Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.
“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.
Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”
“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.
“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”
Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”
“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”
“Steve, what are you doing?”
“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”
“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.
“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”
“Steve-“
“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”
Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.
“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.
“You like me? You? Like me?”
Steve nodded.
“And you just realized this?”
“Kinda.”
“In a queer bar?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s pretty gay, dude.”
Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”
Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”
“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”
“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.
“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”
“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.
“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”
Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.
But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.
“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.
“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”
Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.
Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.
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melaniem54 · 9 months ago
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Review: Be My Endgame by Zarah Detand
Rating: 4.25🌈 “It was on. Number one against number three, battling it out in a tight race for the top spot in the Premier League.” — Be My Endgame: An MM Rivals-to-Lovers Sports Romance by Zarah Detand It thanks almost totally to Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney’s ‘Welcome to Wrexham’ series about buying Wrexham, a Welsh football (soccer to us in the US) team, I do know a bit about the…
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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seagull9111 · 3 months ago
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HEADCANNON that will did not in fact come out when nico confessed to him he actually came out years ago to camp and told nico the first day he was in the infirmary without hesitation.
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steviewashere · 4 months ago
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Thinking about a fic idea right now where Steve comes out (maybe with a little Steddie...maybe; might be best to start them pre-relationship in this). Walk with me here.
Steve Harrington who has always been a huge Wham! fan. And then eventually a huge George Michael fan. He's got all their albums. Collects magazines with interviews in them (y'know, if there's a U.S. release). So, he's pretty much up to date with all news, music info; that kind of thing. He's always on the money about when interviews are.
George Michael who comes out publicly in 1998 after his arrest. Which, you can watch the clip from the interview here. He's thirty-four at the time, had been private about his sexuality and romantic life up until then.
Steve who's freshly in his thirties.
He's thirty-one. He's had some thoughts in regards to his sexuality for years now. Since Robin came out to him in 1985, he's thought about little things. The way certain guys walked that caught his attention, maybe the plushness of their lips, how they styled their hair. She's introduced him to queer culture at the time—pride parades & protests, some lingo, the handkerchief code, etc. So, he's well aware of a lot of things before the CNN interview airs. He hasn't made any hard connections between his sexuality and the thoughts in his head; maybe he's had a few, soft, questioning moments like: Am I gay? Am I bisexual? Is this what I really think or am I searching for something I don't actually want? Am I just being too observant?
(Okay, thinking about pre-Steddie now. And a lot of platonic soulmates Stobin. Also, I totally (accidentally) half-wrote a fic. Stay with me here.)
Eddie's been a part of Steve's life since 1986. Somehow he survives (don't ask me the fine details, I don't know). And Steve tries his hand at being Eddie's friend because he kind of—no, really—wants a guy friend who's around his age. Cue their shenanigans: the chaos they cause together, the pranks they pull on their other friends, the shit Eddie makes Steve get into (drag racing (cars), stealing scrap from the junkyard, throwing rocks over the quarry to guess the impact they made, other little town shit). Eddie who learns that Steve's a true ally to Robin, so he comes out to Steve, too. They all form a very great, deep bond of solidarity. Become roommates outside of Hawkins, somewhere a little more progressive. They protect each other. Listen to each other.
Cue the day in 1998 when the CNN interview is being aired live, unseen up until then. Steve's already ready to watch, having taken up the middle cushion on the couch. Robin's on his left, criss-cross and making a set of beaded bracelets for the three of them. Eddie's on Steve's right, uncapping a couple bottles of beer to pass over. And they're watching with Steve because Steve likes George Michael and, well, they like Steve and his interests. So they're all there when George Michael comes out. They're all there when the words are said live.
Robin and Eddie are wide-eyed, then laughing something a bit triumphant, high-fiving over Steve's head, maybe chanting something: "One of us! One of us!" Maybe becoming huge George Michael fans as they speak. But, Steve's silent. He's sitting on the edge of his cushion, palms down on his thighs, staring off into nothing. All the celebration stops as the interview continues, words being missed. And Robin and Eddie share an odd glance, a questioning one. Until, finally, Robin asks, "Steve-O? You OD over there?"
Steve blinks back into existence. Mutters, "Did George Michael just come out on live TV?" Eddie answers him truthfully, voice a bit soft and concerned. Steve licks his lips, doesn't move his eyes from his socked feet. "...He knew for a little while," he comments. "Right? He knew for a while."
"Sure, Steve," Eddie answers again. "He probably knew about himself for a long time. Probably...Honestly, probably while he was still in Wham."
Maybe Steve nods at that. Maybe he just stays kind of stoic, thinking too hard. "He's thirty-four," Steve points out.
"That he is," Robin answers this time. "Thirty-four and proudly out."
Steve hums some sort of acknowledgement and then goes back to watching the TV, moment drifting away. He sort of watches in a daze. Up until he turns in for the night. Well after Robin has slumped over on the couch and Eddie's gone to bed earlier—because he has work, or so Eddie's said. And Steve maybe sits in his bedroom, up at his headboard, looking down at his albums. At his Wham! and George Michael albums. Turning the tapes over in his hands, reading the track lists, maybe tracing the edges of the cases with his thumbs. Thinking about how George had said he was telling his life story, even through some of his earlier solo work. He's thinking about how successful George Michael has been. And then he thinks about how George Michael came out later in his life. In his thirties, not in his twenties, not in his teens. Sure, yes, it was definitely more negatively criticized to do so, but it means something to Steve. To be thirty-four and freshly out. And he thinks, too, about being thirty-one and things clicking into shiny clarity—he's into guys, too. He's into women, but he's into guys. That word, "bisexual" looking like the final jigsaw piece. To be thirty-one and proudly out, too.
And he's comforted in that thought, as he drifts off to sleep.
And when he wakes up in the morning, he bustles around Eddie and Robin in the kitchen. They make a shared breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage and toast with jam. They sit at the dining table, forks against plates, shooting the shit back and forth.
Steve cuts a slice of sausage, puts it in his mouth, eats as usual. And just as the conversation is beginning to drift again, he finally speaks what's on his mind. "I'm bisexual," he's able to proudly state.
Maybe Eddie and Robin cheer, too for that. They ask him for his taste in guys. Maybe they tease him a little. Maybe Eddie realizes he fits the bill a little; maybe he waits a little bit before taking a shot, but he still does eventually.
And right before they head off for their respective, regular lives outside of the comfortable space of their apartment, Robin knocks their shoulders together. "Proud of you," she states. "Thirty-one and proudly out. How does it feel?"
They're in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes because Eddie left for work already with a promise to bring home pizza for dinner. They're in the kitchen, the lights a little fluorescent like the Starcourt bathroom. They're in the kitchen, in each other's orbits, two friends who've seen it all and will continue to see the world together.
"It feels...I feel good. Excited."
Robin smiles at him, something soft and understanding. And as his focus goes back to the plate he's about to hand off, she snorts. "So, Eddie, huh?" And he scoffs, rolling his eyes. She just laughs to herself. Then, when she's calmed a little bit, she states, "He kind of looks like Rowlf. You and I have a thing for Muppets, Stevie. Muppets."
And after their laughter dies down and they live out the rest of the day, Steve thinks about how he can send a letter of thanks to George Michael. And maybe he cherishes those albums a little closer. And he is confident in himself for the first time in a while, all because the representation he didn't know he was seeking, is finally right in his face.
Sorry that got long. But I'm just thinking about Steve who comes out later in his life. Maybe he couldn't make those connections because he didn't have the safe atmosphere to do so; feared the worst if his parents ever realized he didn't care too much about women sometimes, if his eyes drifted to men a little too much, fearing that they'd catch his contemplation. Maybe he found his safe space through Robin and Eddie, but needed a little more of a push and he just didn't find it yet. Up until now.
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queerism1969 · 11 months ago
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hairmetal666 · 7 months ago
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Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.
And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.
They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--
Steve Harrington is his bed.
They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--
They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.
They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.
Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.
Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.
Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.
They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.
After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.
He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--
"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.
"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.
Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.
Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or
It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--
Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.
Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.
He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."
Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."
They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.
There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.
"Stop," he whispers to Steve.
Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.
"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."
"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"
"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."
"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."
"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."
"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.
"Then we'll deal with it together."
"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."
--
Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.
A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.
Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.
They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.
"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.
"Hey yourself."
"It's Bi Visibility day."
"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going
"I want to come out."
He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"
Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.
"How do you want to do it?"
He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.
They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.
Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.
The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.
Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.
He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"
"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.
"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"
Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."
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vanhelsingapologist · 6 months ago
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leave my heart to the damned as you build me a bed in the earth
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