GalactoseIntolerance:Y’all. It’s a network show. If anyone actually believes they’re going to write a gay relationship between the two main characters, that’s kind of on them.
SpacePope:That might have been true five years ago but IDK if it’s true anymore?? Off the top of my head, I can name four successful mainstream shows that are super gay.
DeathStarJacuzzi:In my mind, they’re established life partners in an open relationship, and the writers assume it’s so obvious that it never needs to be stated
SimonDevereauxsCheekbones:Guys, my cousin says Simon is gay and is out to everyone, brings his boyfriend to parties, etc.
HowlsMovingSpaceship:Tell me exactly how you think this is relevant
SimonDevereauxsCheekbones:Just that it’s less likely to be queerbaiting if there’s an actual gay actor involved? Maybe?
SpacePope:Are we publicly outing actors now?
SimonDevereauxsCheekbones:It’s not public! This is a private server.
SpacePope:It’s public enough.
HowlsMovingSpaceship:Mods, can someone delete the last few messages please?
Chapter Three
Simon has rules: the cups go in the cabinet in a particular order, the car gets parked in a particular part of the driveway, and the laundry gets done in a particular way. They’re so second nature that he sometimes doesn’t notice he even has a rule until someone breaks it. With Jamie around, his rules are in shambles and he’s constantly running into evidence that his mind was put together wrong.
He can’t tell whether Jamie’s noticed. Probably not, because if he had, he’d have insisted on talking about it. Or—worse—he’d have quietly started following Simon’s deranged little rules because he doesn’t want to be a bother. Which is all the more reason for Simon to make sure Jamie never finds out, obviously.
Simon’s sitting on the sofa, trying to read a book while his brain is screaming that the cabinets arewrongand his groceries arewrongand also everything in the world is wrong because Simon didn’t turn the doorknob the correct number of times and how can a person be expected to function under these circumstances.
Yesterday, his therapist gently reminded him that his rules have a name, a diagnosis, and a treatment plan; it isn’t just that Simon’s super bitchy about his surroundings. When he was living alone, he’d been able to delude himself into thinking he was cured. Hedoesn’t want to admit how much worse he is now than he was a year ago.
The thing is, he likes having Jamie here, and he wishes the more malfunctioning parts of his psyche would get on board with that. There’s some deep, pathetic part of Simon that wants to take the people he loves—who love him—and just, like, chain himself to them. Metaphorically, maybe. But also kind of literally. He’d cut out his own tongue before letting anybody figure that out.
At the other end of the sofa, Jamie gasps.
“What?” Simon asks, glancing over the top of his book. Jamie has the look he only gets when he has something a little mean and very messy to share. Simon’s mood instantly brightens. Other people’s drama is a thrilling change from the contents of his own mind.
“Did you recommend a book to Charlie?” Jamie asks.
“I’m not sure anyone’s recommended a book to Charlie in his life.”
“It’s—okay, I’m just going to read the caption.” Jamie drops his voice an octave and adopts a slightly country accent Simon gathers is supposed to sound like Charlie. “Having a blast reading this book my man Simon Devereaux recommended!”
“What the hell,” Simon whispers. “My man?” Has Charlie had a stroke? Then his brain catches up with the rest of what Jamie said and he reaches for Jamie’s phone.
On the screen is a selfie of Charlie with a book. He’s lying down, the book open on his chest, the photo taken at just the right angle to make the most of his entire shoulder/biceps region. But Simon is strong; he isn’t letting himself get distracted by any of that.
The book on Charlie’s chest isA Scorched Land, the same bookJamie was reading in Simon’s trailer the other day, which—it’s a free country, and Simon might have opinions on the books Jamie chooses to read but he keeps them to himself. Mostly. But that doesn’t mean he wants his name publicly associated with books about dragons falling in love or whatever the hell is going on in that series.
“Can anyone tell me,” Jamie goes on, leaning over Simon’s shoulder and reading the caption in his fake-Charlie voice, “whether this girl is actually going to get together with this dragon or???”
“Oh my God.”
“Charlie, God bless him, is over there fully believing you’d read a book about dragonfucking,” Jamie says. “Honestly, you should be flattered.”
“What are the comments?”
Jamie takes the phone back and scrolls. “Mostly recommendations for books with actual dragonfucking.” He types something, presumably his own recommendation.
Simon takes his own phone out of his pocket and unlocks it, all the while knowing it’s a bad idea. He opens Instagram, ignores his notifications, and navigates to Charlie’s profile.
