Simon presses his palms against the cool marble of the counter. There isn’t any reason for Charlie to be nervous right now. But there’s rarely any reason for Simon to be nervous and God knows he manages it anyway.
It’s probably standard to be a bit awkward when you see someone after a few weeks, especially if during that time apart you’ve... escalated things. Especially if you don’t know where you stand. That kiss answered some questions for Simon, and probably thesame questions for Charlie, but there are still a host of issues left undecided, starting with where Charlie is sleeping and ending with what all this means.
The coffee maker clicked to a stop a few minutes earlier, so Simon gets up and pours Charlie a cup, adding some white sugar that he bought at the store that morning. Then he pours some for himself, because even though it’s four in the afternoon, Simon’s still on California time. No—he’s been sleeping such bizarre hours that he’s no longer affiliated with any time zones. He’s been liberated from the concept of the twenty-four-hour day, from the earth’s rotation itself, and he can drink as much coffee as he wants, whenever he pleases.
“Come on,” he says, handing Charlie a mug. “Let’s sit in the living room so I can stare at my dog.”
They watch an episode ofOut There, the laptop balanced on Simon’s lap and Charlie leaning close. Their arms are pressed together, their legs touching, but it’s the same thing they’ve been doing for weeks. It’s just Charlie.
“This is the episode where I started to play it—” Charlie starts but cuts himself off.
In this episode, Alex’s character is stranded on a planet that’s about to get bombed while the rest of the crew tries to rescue her. It’s one of the get-along shirt episodes—Charlie and Simon are in literally every scene together.
There are fifteen, maybe twenty, episodes with this basic structure. The threats vary, but in a show that’s about a group of fractious outcasts and weirdos learning to function as a family, coming together to save one another is going to be a pretty core theme.Simon can’t see that there’s anything about this episode that sets it apart from all the other episodes just like it.
“Started to do what?” Simon asks.
“I figured, if they were going to give me ten romantic lines per episode, then that’s what they were going to get.”
“You started playing it romantic. I fucking knew it.”
“You and the whole internet.”
“Why this episode, though?”
“It started to bother me. Alex and you were out at work, so two-thirds of the main cast is openly queer, and I’m secretly queer but at that point, like,activelyqueer for the first time in my life. We’re being given these lines that should land as romantic, and they’re written by a bunch of people with pride pins on their tote bags. So I figured, I’m going to assume the best of everyone involved.”
“And nobody ever told you to play it straight.”
“No! If Lian got shit from the network, she didn’t say anything to me.”
“So weird.” Simon puts the laptop on the coffee table and crosses his legs under him. “Technically, I have a producer credit this year.”
“Yeah, they offered me one too.”
“Did you take it?”
“Once I heard you did, yeah. Insisted on it, actually.”
Perversely, Simon likes the reminder that Charlie can be petty and jealous and competitive, that the Charlie who flies dogs across the country is the same Charlie who spent months doing muffin heists.
“I’d like to know whether I’m producing a show that’s being actively not great about queer stuff or if they deliberately wrote a seven-year-long will-they-won’t-they arc.”
“What are you thinking of doing?”
Simon wasn’t thinking of doing anything, and he almost certainlywon’tdo anything, but now that Charlie’s put the idea in his head, he’ll at least feel bad about it.
“It’ll probably be my last season,” he says, and it isn’t exactly connected in his mind with what they were just talking about, but it isn’t unconnected either.
“Figured.” Charlie looks like he wants to say more, but when he speaks again it’s just, “You mind if I use your shower?”
Simon shows Charlie where the spare towels are, then points out the bath supplies he’s stocked the place with, as if Charlie needs to be personally walked through Simon’s lineup of shampoos and exfoliants.
While Charlie’s in the shower, Simon washes the coffee mugs and wipes down the counter, then scratches Edie behind the ears when she wakes up just long enough to find someplace else to nap. Then he doesn’t have anything to do but decide whether he’s supposed to keep his clothing on.
The water in the bathroom turns off, and Simon sits on the edge of the bed, playing with his phone and trying to look like someone who has actually had sex before, with this very person, more than once even, and knows how to be normal about it.
Charlie comes out with his towel around his waist, not fully dry, like maybe he was in a hurry, and Simon should probably stand up but instead he’s glued in place. When Charlie crosses the room, Simon’s still sitting there. And when Charlie reaches out to tilt Simon’s chin up, Simon’s still clutching his phone.
