He was definitely flirting, but it didn’t feel serious. Not quite like he was making fun of Danny either. Just like this was maybe how he was.
Whatever it was, it was… kind of nice. If this was what being out was going to be like, Danny was looking forward to it.
“I’ll be gentle,” Danny promised.
“Oh, don’t hold back on my account.” Eliot grinned at him, the corner of his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Danny’s mouth went dry.
It had been too long since he’d gotten laid, and he’d been sent the one reporter who, if he’d wanted to, could have reduced him to a quivering, needy wreck.
Great. Cool. Fine. He could handle this like an adult.
He poured two cups of coffee and slid one over to Eliot. “Cream? Sugar?”
Eliot shook his head. “Dilutes the caffeine,” he said, pulling the coffee cup closer and putting his arm in front of it, like a dragon guarding its hoard.
“Okay.” Danny shrugged, getting out both to add them to his own cup. He didn’t understand how people could drink black, unsweetened coffee.
“Some of us had to get up at five a.m. this morning,” Eliot said, by way of explanation.
“Oh, so you know my schedule?” Danny raised an eyebrow.
Eliot’s mouth fell open. “How do you survive?”
“I roll out of bed, go for a run, grab breakfast, shower, and then… well, today I do this.” He waved between them. “Other days I just get on with whatever else I’m doing.”
“You lost me at ‘run’,” Eliot said. “Sounds like work.”
Danny laughed at that. “It is work. When I was younger, I could get away with sleeping until noon most days and showing up to practice ten minutes late.”
“You’re not exactly old.” Eliot scribbled something on his notepad.
“Thanks,” Danny said. “But it turns out you kinda peak at twenty-five.”
“Shit, I hope not. I just turned twenty-six.” Eliot smiled wryly. “Uh, so, going back to the interview, what’s it been like to be in the closet for so long?”
Danny’s stomach dropped again. He’d just been starting to relax.
“I’m sorry, I have to ask,” Eliot said. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been.”
Danny swallowed. “I get it,” he said. Eliot was just doing his job. It was easier saying this to someone who understood.
He just didn’t really want to think about it.
“It’s been hard,” Danny said, staring down at his coffee. “I’ve missed out on a lot because of it. Community. Long-term relationships. I never got to feel like anyone ever really knew me. It’s been lonely.”
He looked up to see Eliot looking at him sympathetically. Normally, he would have resented that. He didn’t need anyone’s pity.
It was different coming from Eliot, though. More sincere. He actually looked like he was ready to cry for Danny.
Danny had done plenty of crying for himself, he didn't need anyone else doing it.
“Well, you’re very attractive, so the community will embrace you with open arms now,” Eliot said. “You’re exactly the kind of poster boy we love.”
“I don’t wanna be a poster boy,” Danny said. “Or a role model or anything else. I’m human and flawed and all of that. I just… I want to be visible. I don’t want to hide anymore.”
Eliot nodded, scrawling illegible notes as Danny talked. “Of course. You’re not coming out to be anyone’s hero. It’s a very personal decision.”
“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “Yeah, it is, which is why it’s weird that I’m even talking to you. I didn’t plan on coming out. I just got so tired of everyone assuming I was straight, y’know? And I snapped and couldn’t take it. My manager has me in damage control mode. Damage control. Like the worst thing I could possibly be is gay. You know what makes me mad? If I’d assaulted a woman, I’d be getting high-fived by some people right now. That’s so wrong. But gay? Oh, better make sure everyone doesn’t hate you.”
Danny paused to take a breath, and then realized he probably shouldn’t be saying all this. It was being recorded, and like Eliot said—there was no such thing as off-the-record with a reporter.
“I’ll rephrase that for you when I print it,” Eliot said. “Not that I disagree with any of it, just that I think you realize that was the opposite of damage control.”
“Belatedly, yeah.” Danny sighed. “This is why I don’t normally give interviews.”
“Is there anything else you particularly want to talk about?” Eliot asked. “Consider this me shoving a soapbox toward you.”
“I just… I hope that one day people can be out at the start of their sports careers. I hope they don’t have to live like I have, always afraid that someone who knows will tell. Always afraid someone’s gonna find out. I want it not to be a big deal, because it’s really not a big deal.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, huh?”
Danny nodded. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. I don’t wanna be mad about what I’ve had to do to get to where I am, but I’m not thrilled either, y’know?”
“I know,” Eliot agreed.
“You’ve been surprisingly cool about all this,” Danny said, genuinely pleased that it hadn’t been the horrible, confrontational experience he’d been expecting.
Eliot drained his coffee cup and stood, tucking his phone and notepad back into his bag. “I’m glad I wasn’t a complete pain in the ass. I’ll leave you in peace, I think I have what I need. If you have any comments to add, my contact details are all here.”
He handed over a plain business card with an email and cell number on it. Eliot O’Connor, one L. Danny would remember that.
“I can see myself out,” Eliot added, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I wish you all the luck in the world now that you’re out and proud.”
“Thanks.” Danny smiled wryly. “Probably gonna need it.”
“Oh yeah.” Eliot nodded knowingly. “You’re gonna need it.”
Danny watched him go, not wanting to make him feel like he was being followed, and sipped his own coffee. He had the horrible feeling that Eliot was right.
He was going to need all the luck he could get.
Chapter Three
“So, how did the big interview go?” Meg asked the moment Eliot sat down at his desk. He hadn’t thought anyone knew about it other than himself and Ben, but this was an office full of professional gossips.
Eliot sighed. He thought he had the basis for a good article, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d behaved.
“You know how I flirt when I’m nervous?” he asked. Meg didn’t necessarily know him well, but that was often one of the first things people noticed about him.
“Yeah, like a weird defense mechanism,” Meg said. “As if you’re going to confuse people into leaving you alone.”
“Yeah, well, I spent the whole interview making an ass of myself. He must think I’m an idiot now.”
Meg raised an eyebrow. “Well… did he respond?”
“Yes!” Eliot said. “Which is so much worse. He’s so attractive and he flirted back and it just spiraled all the way out of control and I can never face him again. I’m so glad I won’t have to.”
“I don’t actually see the problem. He’s hot, and you got to have a little fun with him while you did your job.” She shrugged.
Eliot sighed again. That was true, and it had been fun when he hadn’t been worrying about everything he said or every expression he made.
Also, Danny was definitely hot. Not necessarily Eliot’s type, but objectively, gorgeous. Now that he was out, he really would have guys flocking to him.
“See? I’m right,” Meg said. “He probably barely noticed it was weird. He might even have liked it.”
Eliot wrinkled his nose at the thought. Danny was definitely attractive, but this was a man who was proud of getting up at five a.m., on purpose, and then doing crap like running and eating breakfast.
“I don’t want him to like it,” Eliot said. “He’s too…”
“Are you gonna hit me if I say cocky?” Meg asked, grinning.
Eliot narrowed his eyes at her. “No, but only because you’d hit me back and I’m delicate. Also… you’re not wrong.”
Danny was both cocky in the traditional sense, and exactly the kind of guy the magazine celebrated. Even though he was gay, he was still classically masculine. He was a sports star, for a start. The pinnacle of a male power fantasy.
Of course, Eliot had seen another side to him today—one that was lonely, and regretful, and a little sad—but he’d also seen the goddamn mansion he lived in, and he knew that if anyone could walk away unscathed from coming out, it would be him.
His feelings were, at best, complicated.
It was good that Danny was coming out. More famous people being open about their sexuality was a net good for everyone. It was also sad that he hadn’t been able to live openly up to this point. Eliot couldn’t imagine doing the same.
There was just a part of him that bristled when he was around jocks. He hadn’t been in high school for almost a decade, but he still remembered what it was like. He remembered all the shit kids who’d grown up to be like Danny had given him.
The fact that some percentage of them were probably doing it because they were gay, too, and they couldn’t stand that one person might get away with it when they knew they couldn’t, didn’t change the torture they’d put him through.
Eliot hesitated to feel too sorry for Danny. His struggles were just as real, but they involved less bruises.
“Of course he is.” Meg shrugged again. “But he’s earned it. He’s good at what he does. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed, or anything.”
“He’s gay,” Eliot pointed out.
“Okay, in an alternative universe where I’m a gay man, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed. You know what I mean. You’re being harsh ‘cause he plays sports and you actively hate sports.”
Eliot opened his mouth to object, but he knew Meg was right.
He was judging Danny based on things other people had done. That wasn’t entirely fair.
His phone vibrating saved him from having to come up with a clever response that wouldn’t be admitting defeat. Just because Meg was right, didn’t mean Eliot had to let her win.
I did have something to add, the text read, thank you for being so cool today. I was expecting a nightmare and I actually had fun.
It was signed Danny.
Eliot bit his lip.
Maybe he really had been too harsh.
Not that it mattered, since it wasn’t as though he was ever going to see the guy again.
You’re welcome, he texted back.
“That's him, isn't it? You gave him your number,” Meg said, a smug smile spreading over her features.
“Because that's what professionals do,” Eliot defended, setting his phone down.
“What did he say?” Meg asked.
Eliot’s face heated up. “He, uh. He was saying thank you. And that he, umm… had fun…”
The tips of his ears burned with the admission.
The unfortunate truth was that as much as he’d wanted to dislike Danny for a whole host of very good reasons, he sort of…
Liked him.
“You like him,” Meg said, as if she’d read Eliot’s mind. Besides the fact that she was very good with people, it probably didn't help that Eliot was blushing furiously after getting a fairly innocuous text from the guy.
Danny was cocky and a little too self-confident for Eliot’s usual tastes, but he’d been nice. Fun, even.
Eliot really didn’t want to have a crush on him. He didn’t want to admit that Danny hadn’t been at all like he thought he would be. He’d gone in nervous that they wouldn’t be able to find any middle ground, and he’d come away…
Well, he’d come away blushing at a thank you text.
It was just as well Danny was entirely unattainable and not someone he’d ever have to speak to again.
“Maybe I do,” Eliot admitted. He hated to admit it, but he did. As much as he knew he shouldn’t have liked Danny, something about him was very appealing.
Something aside from the fact that the sex would have been amazing. There was no point in pretending that he hadn’t thought about it, even if only for a moment.
“I don’t think he was interested, though. I think he was just relieved to be talking to a gay guy.”
“Whatever you say.” Meg shrugged. “I’d chase him anyway.”
“You’re shameless. I’m not,” Eliot said. He didn’t mean it as an insult. Meg’s complete lack of self-consciousness was an asset in this job. He often wished he was the same way, but he’d never get to that point.
“Your loss,” she said, stepping away from his desk. “I gotta go work, but I’m free for lunch if you wanna hang out?”
Eliot liked the sound of that. He didn’t have a whole lot of friends in LA, and he liked the idea of getting to know Meg a little better. She’d been hired around the same time Eliot had, but Eliot had been too busy trying to cope with suddenly being on his own, thousands of miles from home, to really get to know anyone.
“I’m gonna get a draft of this article down, and then I’m all yours,” he said.
“Awesome, I’ll come by your desk in an hour,” she promised, walking away with a swing of her hips.
If Eliot was at all interested in women, he’d have had the most ridiculous crush on Meg.
Instead, he had an even more ridiculous, uncomfortable crush on a guy he’d just met. At least he’d never be in a position where he could make an idiot of himself because of it again.
Chapter Four
“I still wish you’d talked to me before you came out,” Walter said, sitting heavily behind his desk as Danny followed him into the office. “But I suppose what’s done is done. That interview was a good call. We gotta send this O’Connor kid… I dunno, flowers or something, for making you look like a hero.”
Danny blushed, both at the idea of being a hero and at the idea of sending Eliot flowers.
He already felt ridiculous over the text he’d sent to thank him, and that had been days ago.
Walter was right, though—Eliot had made him look good, and had left out all the parts that wouldn’t have helped his image as promised. Danny hadn’t really expected him to do that. It probably would have been more in Eliot’s interests to expose him as less-than-perfect.
“Would he want tickets, d’you think?” Walter asked, breaking Danny’s train of thought.
“Uh. I doubt it. Maybe chocolate, or something? Everyone likes chocolate.”
“Done. We want him on-side. I guess he likes you.” Walter smiled wryly. “Good job picking out a gay reporter.”
“I didn’t pick the reporter,” Danny corrected. “Just the magazine.”
“Well, they sent you the right one.” Walter leaned back in his chair, putting his boots up on the desk. “But that’s only step one. If you’re retiring at the end of the season, we need to start thinking about advertising deals and the like. Your savings won’t last forever, but if you can top ‘em up and make some smart investments, you might never have to work another day in your life.”
It was true that Danny would have liked a year or two off, but he didn’t intend to lead a life of complete leisure after that. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but permanent retirement sounded boring.
A family would have been nice. Someone he could come home to, maybe a dog. Or a cat, cats seemed to be less work. Kids, one day, maybe. He liked the idea of being a father.
All that was way in the future, but he had to start thinking about the future. This phase of his life was coming to an end.
“See, that’s the thing. Being out closes off a lot of opportunities with companies who’d rather not be seen as political.”
Danny barely suppressed a growl at that. Everything was political. Some people just didn’t want to have to pick a side when it came to gay rights.
Which was insulting, because the two possible sides were live and let live, or arbitrarily hate a group of people because of who they were attracted to. To Danny, that was a pretty clear right and wrong.
He didn’t think of himself as a pillar of moral virtue or anything, but common decency seemed like a low bar to ask people to step over. The fact that some of them refused, and got away with refusing, was one of the most frustrating things in the world to him.
“But it’s gotta open up some where they’re actively looking to seem progressive, right?” Danny asked. He’d known that coming out would screw up some opportunities for him, but he was sure there’d be others.
The cost of being out was worth it. He couldn’t have lived the rest of his life in the closet, and he should never have had to be in there in the first place. If being out in public made any difference to that—and he hoped it would—then it was the right choice.
Walter shrugged. “Sure, but they’re usually not companies who necessarily care what you’re famous for. If you want to capitalize on those opportunities, you’re gonna need a boyfriend. You’re not really gay to advertisers until you’re out there in the world holding hands with another man. Then, they care.”
“So your advice is find a boyfriend?” Danny asked. Walter said it as though it was the easiest, most obvious thing in the world.
Meanwhile, Danny had been so desperate for affection that he’d been practically drooling over a reporter.
“Yes,” Walter said, deadly serious. “Clean cut, but with personality. Not a fan. Someone with a career of their own, but not one that overshadows yours. A little more classically gay than you would be nice, too.”
Danny opened his mouth to argue over the phrase classically gay, but an image had popped into his head as Walter had been describing the ideal person.
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