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It’s never a good sign when Tom wakes up to missed calls from his publicist, because that usually only happens after he’s accidentally let slip some Marvel secrets. He’s been pretty tight-lipped about spoilers recently though, so he wonders what he could possible have done this time to warrant fifteen missed calls – a new record, surely – and a series of texts demanding that he call her back right now. Wriggling free from Harrison’s arms, he sits up, leaning against the headboard of their bed as he returns the calls.
“Hey, Emily. What’s up?” he greets, not even waiting for a hello from her end before cutting straight to the chase.
There’s silence on the line. For all her urgency to get ahold of him, she’s suddenly suspiciously quiet. It’s actually making Tom a little anxious, and he tries even harder to recall all the things he’s been up to lately and which of those might possibly be a problem, but comes up empty.
She’s still not saying anything and it’s making him start to panic a little, but just as he’s about to demand she tell him what’s going on, she finally speaks. “Did you open the link I sent you?” she asks, not answering his question at all.
“No, should I have?” he asks, feeling the panic grow, “Emily can you please just tell me what’s going on?”
Emily sighs, sounding tired when she tells him, “Just... look at it and then call me back? You’re going to want to see it for yourself anyway if I just tell you what it is, so we might as well get that out of the way first.”
“Okay,” Tom says, hanging up, and then scrambling to open his texts.
It’s a link to a tabloid site, which is never good news. As the page loads, there is a groan from the boy in bed with him. “Who was that?” Harrison mumbles, rubbing sleep out of his eyes before looking up at Tom.
“Emily,” he answers, not taking his eyes off the phone, as if somehow that would will the page to load faster.
At the sound of the name, Harrison seems to properly awaken. “Your publicist Emily?” he confirms, grimacing slightly when he receives a nod in response, “Shit. Did something happen?”
“That’s what I’m checking–– oh.” The website finally loads, and the first thing Tom sees is a photo of himself and Harrison. It’s dark and grainy and clearly taken from quite a distance away using a zoom lens, but there is no doubt that the pair of them are the subjects of the photo. Tom knows this, because he remembers the exact moment that’s been captured on camera.
It had been just last night, after all. After a long day of filming, Tom had been dead on his feet, managing to keep himself upright only by clinging onto Harrison. The photo must have been taken while the taller boy had been trying to unlock their front door, Tom’s arms securely wrapped around his waist. Half delirious from fatigue, Tom had tried to kiss Harrison and missed, lips landing on the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth instead. He had leaned his head back and laughed right after, so really, the paparazzi had gotten really lucky with that split-second shot.
“Tom?” Harrison calls, concern clear in his voice. He finally sits up as well, and Tom can tell the moment Harrison catches sight of the photo, because the boy’s whole body immediately tenses up.
Tom’s not quite sure he can bear to look at Harrison right now so he doesn’t, but he does reach over to take his hand, their fingers slotting together with the ease of familiarity. With his free hand, he calls Emily, putting her on speaker so that Harrison will be kept in the loop as well.
“What do you want to do?” Emily says the moment she picks up, skipping the preamble entirely.
“Tom hurt his ankle yesterday,” Harrison speaks up before Tom can, “That’s why he was holding onto me. And the photo looks incriminating only because of the angle. Plus, it’s so blurry you can hardly see anything. That’s the story we should give.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Emily starts to say, only to be interrupted by Tom.
“No,” Tom says firmly. His voice is sharp but when he turns to Harrison his gaze is soft, apologetic almost. “I think we should go public.”
“But you told Marvel––” Emily flusters, “And Sony!”
“I agreed to keep things quiet, but I never agreed to lie.” Tom reminds her. “There’s nothing they could possibly say or do to convince me to lie about being in a relationship.” There’s a short pause, and then he squeezes Harrison’s hand before adding, “Unless you’re not ready to come out. I’m tired of hiding, but I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to.”
Harrison’s eyebrows raise almost comically. “Tom, I’ve been wanting to tell the world how in love I am with you for ages now. I was just worried about your contract with Sony and Marvel.”
“Well fuck them,” Tom replies, repeating himself when it looks like Harrison might argue, “Fuck them. Emily, how are people reacting to the news?”
She seems surprised to suddenly be addressed, but recovers quickly. “Some people are saying the same thing Harrison said: the photo quality is too poor to really be undeniable proof of anything. Mostly people are angry though–– not at you, but on your behalf. Even if not all of them believe the story the tabloids are selling, it’s 2018, outing celebrities isn’t acceptable any more.”
“Good,” Tom says, “How about Harrison and I film a video... a coming out video? We’ll send it to you when we’re done, and you can make sure we’ve addressed it appropriately before uploading it to Instagram.”
“Okay. I suggest you tweet something, let them know you’re going to address this. The phones here have been ringing off the hook ever since the photo first dropped. Everyone’s trying to get a comment from you. Maybe an announcement will appease them for a bit so I can make some calls to Marvel and Sony.” At this point, there’s a hint of a smile in her voice, even if her tone remains wry. “Someone has to make sure you don’t get your ass fired.”
“You’re amazing, Emily,” Tom says, “We owe you.”
Now that there’s a plan of action, Emily seems much more composed, even managing a snicker. “Yeah, yeah. Send me a gift basket and I might call it even. Or maybe a spa package.”
“Done, and done,” Tom replies, thanking her yet again before hanging up.
And then it’s just him and Harrison once again. The moment he turns towards his boyfriend, there are hands on his face and a pair of lips on his. He hardly has to think before he’s returning the kiss, hands sliding up Harrison’s arms to circle his wrists. They should probably get started on the video, but he’s always been weak-willed when it comes to Harrison, and so he allows himself to indulge in the kissing for a little longer.
Tom gets it, really. He understands the hint of desperation in Harrison’s kisses, understands why it feels almost a little bit like a goodbye. Because it is, kind of. Despite what Harrison might have said about wanting to show Tom off to the world, despite how tiring it gets sometimes to have to hide such a big part of their lives, on some days Tom appreciates the privacy. Tom’s been in the public eye since he was a kid on Broadway, but now more than ever, and his fame is seen by some as an invitation to pry into his life. Almost everything about him has been scrutinised by fans and haters alike, picked apart for other people’s pleasure. It had been nice, sometimes, to not have to deal with all that with Harrison.
But then he remembers all the times he’s ever been asked about his ideal girl, remembers the dating rumours that have dogged his friendship with Zendaya ever since the early days of filming Spider-Man: Homecoming, and he thinks Harrison deserves better than that. Coming out to the world might mean that people will read into every little thing he does with Harrison more, but it also means he’ll get to talk about his boyfriend freely, get to post cute photos of them with cheesy captions, get to let the world see just how incredibly lucky he is.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harrison asks after he manages to muster enough willpower to pull away from Tom. “There’s no going back after the video’s up.”
It’s sweet, really, how Harrison cares. Tom is so ridiculously in love with him, and now everyone will know it. It’s almost exciting. “I’m sure,” he answers, leaning in for one last kiss.
Reassured, Harrison nods. The pair of them leave the bed to wash up and freshen up a little so that they don’t look a mess on camera, then Harrison sets up the tripod and camera while Tom sits on the couch, trying to school his expression into something more neutral than the grin that’s threatening to bloom as he sends out a tweet, promising to talk about the photo very soon.
Of course, his mentions go crazy the second the tweet is posted. He’s curious to know how people are reacting, but there are two dozen new replies every second and the words are moving too fast for him to be able to read what they’re saying. There’s one that does manage to catch his eye though – a simple as long as you’re happy – and as Tom glances at the boy who’s fiddling with the camera, he thinks he can’t possibly be any happier.
“Okay!” Harrison exclaims once the camera’s been set up, hitting the record button before sitting down next to Tom. There’s a bit of a gap between them, Harrison sitting up a little straighter than he normally would. Without thinking, Tom reaches over and takes Harrison’s hand in his. The blond boy startles a little, but as their fingers intertwine, he immediately relaxes, looking a lot more at ease than he had just two seconds before.
“If you’re watching this video, then you’ve probably already seen the photo of me and Harrison that was posted earlier today,” Tom starts, glancing over at Harrison, “Some of you might be expecting me to say it’s not what it looks like, but the truth is... it’s exactly what it looks like. It had been a long day of filming. I was exhausted. Every part of my body ached. I wanted to kiss my boyfriend, so I did–– although the one thing the photo might be misleading about is my aim. It doesn’t look like it, but actually I completely missed his mouth.”
Harrison snorts at the statement, cutting in with a teasing, “Not your smoothest moment, babe.”
Despite their joined hands, Tom finds a way to elbow Harrison in the ribs, laughing at the almost offended yelp. His gaze finds Harrison, and he’s taken aback by the open affection he sees in them, wondering how in the hell they managed to keep it quiet for this long when their feelings are so obviously written on their faces whenever they look at each other. He holds Harrison’s gaze for a moment before forcing himself to look away, turning his attention back to the still-recording camera.
“I know you guys probably want all the details, but we’d rather not have to deal with a million questions about our relationship at the moment. In time, we’ll probably share more of it with everyone, but for now, I just want to say that all the times I called Harrison my best friend –– those weren’t lies. Whatever else he may be doesn’t change the fact that he is my best friend; I just happen to be dating my best friend, that’s all.”
Tom feels Harrison squeeze his hand, but when he sneaks a glance in his direction, Harrison’s looking straight at the camera still. “I get the feeling that a lot of people are going to start telling me how lucky I am to be with Tom,” Harrison says, “And they’d be right. I am so incredibly lucky to have someone like Tom in my life. Even back when we first met as teens, I knew he was someone I would follow to the ends of the earth and–– well, I’ve pretty much done that, haven’t I?”
He chuckles, finally turning towards Tom again to share a look before he’s talking to the camera once more. “What I’m trying to say is: thank you all for loving Tom, and I hope you continue to love him for years to come, the way I plan to.”
Overwhelmed all of a sudden, Tom leans in towards Harrison, knocking their heads together lightly. “I love you too,” he whispers, the quiet statement meant for Harrison’s ears only. He feels Harrison shift to press a kiss against his temple, and he takes a few seconds to collect himself before sitting upright once more.
“That’s all for now,” Tom announces, throwing up his signature peace sign with his free hand as a grin starts to stretch across his lips. “Lots of love, from us.”
Harrison gets up to stop the recording and retrieve the SD card. There’s nothing to edit besides trimming the start and end of the video, but still, Tom watches the laptop screen with his chin hooked over Harrison’s shoulder, not wanting to relinquish physical contact with the other boy. Harrison sends the trimmed video over to Emily, turning his attention to his clingy boyfriend as they wait for approval to post it.
“Spit it out,” Harrison says, pressing his nose against Tom’s cheek, “I can tell when something's bothering but you don't know how to talk about it.”
“You’re too good to me,” Tom admits quietly, ignoring the protesting noises from Harrison. “We would’ve gone public eventually, and yeah, okay, it feels good to finally be able to be honest with the fans. But still... we’re only coming clean because we had no other choice, we were forced into a corner, and it’s all my fault. Because I couldn’t wait two minutes for you to open the door.”
Harrison turns to face Tom properly, dislodging the boy from his shoulder. Tom can’t bring himself to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, but Harrison reaches out to cup his face, gently lifting his head until brown meets blue. “It’s not your fault,” he says firmly, “If we’re going to pin the blame on anyone for this, it’s the paparazzo who decided to camp out in our neighbourhood to get a photo of us outside of our home. Hell, I’ve kissed you on that same doorstep many times before. If one of those times had been captured on camera, would you have blamed me for outing us?”
“No,” Tom mumbles, acquiescing the point.
Harrison leans in, pressing a soft kiss against Tom’s lips. “It’s not your fault,” he says again when he pulls away, just as a new email appears in his inbox. It’s a reply from Emily, giving them the green light to upload the video.
Tom downloads the video onto his phone before uploading it to his Instagram account, spending some time typing, deleting, and rewriting the caption before finally settling for one that’s simple and straight to the point.
Harrison and I are coming clean... and coming out.
At the same time, Harrison scrolls through his gallery to find a cute photo of him and Tom, which is hard because there are so many to choose from. He picks one of them taken just earlier that same week, when Harry had dropped by to visit. Harrison had been using his laptop while on the couch, and Tom – displeased at the lack of attention from his boyfriend – had nudged the laptop aside and commandeered Harrison’s lap for himself.
Despite the unwelcome interruption, Harrison’s arms had wrapped around his waist out of habit to keep Tom from sliding off, and the exasperation on his face was tinged with fondness. Tom, for his part, had slung his arms around Harrison’s neck, looking far too pleased with himself. The moment had been immortalised by Harry, and now Harrison’s about to share it with the several hundred thousand people that follow him.
I guess the cat’s out of the bag. But who needs cats when you’ve got a Tom?
After typing the caption, Harrison turned to Tom once more, getting a small nod in response. At the nod, both of them hit the button to share the posts, watching as the likes and comments start to flood in almost instantaneously. Like Twitter, the comments are coming in too fast for Tom to be able to read them properly, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to anyway. At least, until his phone is pulled away from his hand and placed face down on the coffee table.
“We can worry about how people are taking it later,” Harrison says, standing up and tugging at Tom’s hand lightly to get him to do the same. “Right now, we’re about to get busy.”
“With what?” Tom asks, genuinely confused. It’s the weekend, and they don’t have to film nor have they made any other plans.
The coy smile on Harrison’s face gives Tom an idea of what his plans are though, so he’s not entirely surprised when Harrison starts pulling him in the direction of the bathroom. “I was thinking... a nice shower, and then breakfast. How do you feel pancakes?”
Tom laughs, letting himself be led into the bathroom. Harrison starts to pull Tom’s shirt off, and Tom grabs Harrison’s hands, making him pause his mission to undress Tom. Having acquired Harrison’s undivided attention, Tom leans in to kiss the other boy, even if it’s a little awkward with how widely they’re both grinning. God, they really are a pair of idiots who are hopelessly in love with each other, aren't they? Tom can't bring himself to care how pathetic he may seem when he's this happy.
“Pancakes sound perfect.”