I sat back down next to Rob and a moment later the journalist came over and lowered himself onto the sofa opposite us, on the other side of the coffee table. He positioned himself carefully, facing us like a judge preparing to deliver a verdict.
“From the look on your faces,” he said somberly, folding his hands together, “I suppose you already know I’m not here to interview you.”
"So, what are we here for?" Tom snapped, his voice sharp and openly hostile.
The man didn’t seem bothered. A slight, almost amused smile tugged at his lips as he opened the folder he was holding. Slowly, he pulled out a large white sheet of paper, turned it around, and slid it across the table toward us.
Rob and I had one look at it and then we looked at each other, defeated.
It was a photograph of us kissing, and there was nothing friendly or ambiguous about it.
Rob stared down at the image for a long moment before lifting his gaze to the journalist. His expression was controlled, but I could hear the anger in his voice when he spoke.
“What exactly do you plan on doing with this?”
“Well, nothing yet,” the man replied lightly, as if discussing the weather.
I looked at the picture again. I had no idea when or where it had been taken. We had been careful - painfully so. We always made sure we were alone or at least around people we could trust before we kissed or touched each other.
It was frustrating, exhausting even, but it was the price we paid to protect ourselves from people like him. And yet, despite all our precautions, they had still managed to corner us.
No one spoke for a moment. The silence felt heavy. We hadn’t been prepared for this, not really. We’d always known that coming out publicly would have to happen one day, but knowing it in theory and being forced into it were two very different things.
We were aware that being outed by the media was a possibility. We had talked about it in vague terms, always postponing the conversation, always assuming we had more time. Maybe we were too naive to think this would happen. Somehow, we hoped we would just slip through the net.
But one thing was certain, doing it through a paper like The Sun had never been an option.
"We 've also got the video footage that goes with it" he told us proudly, tapping the photograph with his finger. "So, if you don't want anybody to see this tomorrow in the morning paper, we’re gonna need to talk," he said to us with self-assurance.
Well, that made Rob react.
"Are you seriously threatening to out us tomorrow morning?" he asked resolutely, his voice low and steady.
He leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with the journalist. The look he gave him was poisonous, cold, furious, and intimidating enough to make even me uneasy. For a brief moment, the man faltered. I saw it clearly, the flicker of doubt, the unease that crossed his face as he hesitated under Rob’s gaze, worried about what he might do.
He broke eye contact quickly and glanced at me and then at Tom, only to see the same anger. For a second, the balance of power wavered.
But only for a second.
His confidence returned fast, the hesitation in his behavior lasting only a few short seconds and he looked at us with confidence again. He looked satisfied, smug, even. He knew he had us, and he took obvious pleasure in it. The realization filled me with pure hatred. I couldn’t understand how someone could enjoy destroying other people’s lives so casually, all for the sake of a headline and a paycheck.
Rob continued staring at him angrily as Tom tried to sound threatening despite the situation.
"You know you can’t do this, we’ll have you sued."
The journalist barely blinked.
“You can try,” he said calmly.
I turned to Tom. "Shouldn’t we refuse to talk to them without a lawyer in the room or something?"
He looked at me and stood up. "Yeah, we’re leaving!"
Rob looked at him straight in the eye as he said with contempt,
"You're such a bastard. Look at you. Don't you have any self-respect? How can you do this and still look at yourself in the mirror? I’m sure your parents must be really proud of their son."
The journalist immediately turned his head toward the security guard, who took a few steps toward us. Rob stepped back and fixed the guard with a steady look, silently telling him he didn’t need to come any closer. The guard stopped, but kept his eyes on Rob.
We walked toward the door.
Before we stepped out, Tom turned to him and asked, a bit resigned,
"What is it gonna take for you not to publish this in tomorrow’s morning paper?"
The reporter was silent for a moment.
When he finally spoke, we weren't too crazy about his answer,
“You can talk to their label,” he said calmly. “See what they’re willing to do. Or you can sign an agreement with us.”
Tom frowned. “An exclusivity agreement?”
The reporter nodded. “We keep this information to ourselves. No article. No leaks. No rumors.” He paused, watching our reactions closely. “They can come out whenever they’re ready. On their own terms. And when that happens, we publish the story, only with us. The truth. Nothing but the truth.”
The words made my stomach drop. It sounded reasonable on the surface, almost generous, and that was what made it so disgusting.
Rob let out a short laugh. “That’s blackmail,” he said flatly.
The reporter didn’t even flinch. “That’s business.”
Rob moved closer to him. "That is never going to happen! Primarily because someone like you and the rag you work for wouldn’t know the truth if it smacked you in the face."
“Careful,” the journalist said coolly. “You don’t have as much control here as you think.”
Rob didn’t respond. He just turned toward the door.
And we walked out.
We didn’t speak until we were inside the taxi.
“Fuck,” I muttered, staring at my hands. “Can you believe this is happening? Tom, what should we do?" I asked
Tom rubbed his face, exhausted. “I don’t even know where to start. I’ve never dealt with this kind of pressure before.” He sighed. “I’m going to BMG right now. See if they can negotiate something. Maybe buy you some time.”
He stepped out of the cab, and suddenly it was just the two of us.
We remained silent for a moment until I told Rob, in a resigned voice,
“Maybe we should just sign their stupid agreement,” I said quietly, “and then we can just come out whenever we want, on our own terms," I said, but not really meaning it.
Rob just looked at me, disbelief on his face.
"On our own terms? No, it won’t be on our own terms.”
“Sorry, you’re right,” I apologized.
“Mark, once we sign that, we lose control. Completely.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “I know. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“They don’t want to protect us,” he continued. “They want to own the story. They want to make money out of us. Our relationship.” His voice dropped. “It’d be like admitting we’re ashamed of it. It’d betray everything we are.”
"I know, but we’ve always said that we’d come out when we feel ready. And I don’t know if we are."
“Hey, I don’t want to do this right now. I really don’t,” he said. “I hate the idea of having to share my love life with the whole fucking world. But being outed by a tabloid? No way. Who knows what kind of twisted version of the truth they’d write - and that’s what people would remember. Most people believe the first thing they read. And with how many people read that bloody paper every morning, we just can’t let them out us. Not now. Not ever.”
“But we always said our private lives were ours,” I replied. “I don’t like that I’m going to have to talk about it, comment on it, answer people’s questions about something that is supposed to stay private.”
“Me neither,” he said. “I already have paparazzi on my back every day. If we come out, it’ll be even worse. They’ll be following us all the time, trying to get pictures.
I sighed and looked into his eyes, anxious and confused. We didn’t say anything for a few seconds. My mind was racing, trying to find a way out, but there wasn’t one.
I let out a dejected sigh.
“Look, I know we don’t really have a choice. People are already starting to suspect that something might be going on between us. But I didn’t think we’d be forced to do it so soon. I don’t mind them knowing about us, but I don’t want to talk about it in the media.”
“We don’t have to share our relationship with the whole world,” he said. “We can refuse to do interviews or answer questions about our personal lives. Right now, it’s just about telling people we’re gay and together. It doesn’t have to be more than that.”
He took my hand in his. I rested it on his thigh as he softly brushed his thumb over my knuckles, calming me, until we arrived at our place. From there, we went straight to Jordan’s, where Dylan and Damon were waiting for us.
We’d started explaining the situation to them over the phone, telling them everything that had happened.
“What are you gonna do?” Dylan asked.
“Come out, I guess,” I said, trying to sound decisive.
“Are you ready for that? It’s not really a good time,” he said, worried.
“Why not?” Jordan jumped in immediately. “Maybe it’s the perfect time. It could give us more freedom to write a fucking awesome album.”
“That people might decide not to buy!” Dylan added, shooting a look at Jordan.
Jordan frowned. “Dylan, we’ve got plenty of gay fans.”
“And plenty of straight ones too,” Dylan countered.
“Well, if some are stupid enough to care, then fuck ‘em!” Jordan exclaimed.
“We’re about to become huge,” Dylan said firmly. “This could compromise everything, especially in the States. It could completely change the way people see the band. Our fans will probably be okay with it, but we still have a long way to go. Most people will stop at the ‘gay’ thing without even giving us a chance.”
"Are you that desperate to break in the States?" Jordan asked, confronting him, "Cause I’m not! Remember what Bono tells us, ‘be real, wear your heart on your sleeve,’ well, let’s just do that. If people like it, great, if they don’t, who the hell cares!"
As I listened, I knew he was right. But we’d talked about this before. We all wanted the band to have a lasting influence on the music scene. We wanted to still be relevant in twenty years. Coming out might jeopardize that because we didn’t want to be pigeonholed or limited to a niche audience.
U-N-I was bigger than any one part of our identity. Our homosexuality was a part of who we were, yes, but it wasn’t everything. We wanted the band to touch everyone, not just a minority. I was worried that if we weren’t careful, people would see us only for that and not for the music, the message, or what we were trying to create.
Rob passed his hands over his face and turned away, walking toward a corner of the room. What they were saying made sense, and he needed a moment. He rested his forehead against the wall, and I just stood beside Jordan, staring blankly, wondering what the hell we were going to do.
Silence filled the room. There was a definite tension in the air and the atmosphere in the room was heavy and electric.
Jordan stepped over to Rob. Gently, he made him turn around and placed his hands on either side of his face. He whispered something I couldn’t hear, then pulled Rob into a hug, speaking softly in his ear. Rob buried his face in the crook of Jordan’s neck and hugged him back, trembling slightly as Jordan’s hand rubbed up and down his back.
After a few seconds, Damon joined them, placing a hand at the back of Rob’s neck and speaking to him in a soothing voice. Rob looked lost, unsure of what to do with himself. I felt the same way. I was glad they were there for him, because I was barely holding it together too. He needed his friends, and I needed them just as much.
We were starting to realize what this all meant, especially for Rob. Even though we were in the same boat, he would be the one to deal with this the most. Journalists would focus on him. He would be labelled, scrutinized, and made the face of this revelation. I’d just be the boyfriend.
At first, that’s probably how most people would see it. When people heard “U-N-I,” they thought “Robbie Myers.” To anyone outside our fanbase, I’d likely just be “this guy in the band who Robbie dates.” Rob was afraid of losing respect, of people seeing him differently.
"I’m sorry Rob," Dylan told him. "I don’t mean to make you worry more than you already do. I don’t care whether you guys come out now or later, but we should really think this through before making a decision."
I walked over to Rob. Jordan and Damon drifted toward Dylan near the couch, giving us a little space. I took Rob’s hand in mine and kissed his cheek. He rested his head on my shoulder, and I slid my other hand into his hair, holding him close.
“You’re okay?” I asked softly.
“Yeah,” he said, though his voice wavered. “Just freaking out a little. But I’ll be fine.”
“God, guys,” Damon said, “maybe Dylan’s right. It’s a big risk. We still have a lot to prove, maybe we should prove it first before you come out.”
“Or maybe it’s not,” Dylan said with a sigh. “What do I know?”
I was surprised. Dylan was usually the one most worried about the consequences for the band.
“Most people suspect anyway,” he added, looking at Rob. “And I know you’d love to sing the songs, knowing people understand what the lyrics mean to you. Maybe the next tour could be the best one yet, because the fans would really get you.”
“Hey, make up your mind!” Damon snapped. “What if you were right before? What if people don’t want to listen to a band with a gay singer? What if they don’t buy our album or come to our gigs?”
“Some probably won’t,” Jordan said, rolling his eyes, “but would you stop? We’ve talked about this before. If they turn their backs on us, they’re not worth it. Our fans are open-minded. I’m pretty sure everything will work out.”
“We’ll be doing a great service to the gay community,” Rob said quietly. “It could help a lot of gay guys feel better about themselves, about who they are.”
He was right. More celebrities were coming out every year, but us? It would probably do a lot in terms of changing some people's perceptions, because at the end of the day, we were just your average gay guys who you would think are straight if you saw them walking down the street. We were just normal metrosexual guys from an ordinary middle-class, not to mention catholic background, who just happened to like men.
“We’re going to lose some fans anyway, it’s inevitable,” Jordan said, “but we’ll attract a new crowd too: cool, open-minded people.” He smiled. “Rob, you made this decision a while ago. Sure, it was easy to say someday when you didn’t have to do it, but right now, you’re just scared. The decision’s already made.”
I looked at Rob and smiled. “It could be kind of amazing to record a new album, feeling totally free to say what we want, and to go on tour knowing our fans understand.”
“Yeah,” Jordan added. “You actually sing about being gay. It’s part of the band’s identity. It’s time to tell people the truth. You don’t have to stay in the closet. I know you want to be sure we’re famous enough for it not to matter, but I think we are! Aren’t you tired of hiding?”
"Sure," Rob said in a low voice, "I wanna be honest about this, and I know I have to be honest about this but... it's not that easy."
“They have you backed into a corner,” Jordan continued. “If you wait, you might take an even bigger risk. Now that they know, they could out you whenever they want. Even if they promise not to, these people are unscrupulous. And if it’s not The Sun, it’ll be another paper. Too many people are asking questions. If you do it now, at least you control it.”
“I know,” Rob said. “I’m just worried about losing a little more privacy.”
“We’ll finally have the freedom to be ourselves,” I told him. “No more hiding. It’d lift a huge weight off our shoulders.”
"Yeah," Jordan said, "you just need a little push. Maybe this is actually a good thing."
"Yes," Damon said, "you might never have the balls to actually do it if no one ever gives you a good kick in the ass," he said with a laugh.
"So… you gonna do this?" Dylan asked after a few seconds of silence.
"I guess," Rob said, almost in a whisper staring into space, "Let's just wait for Tom to give us some news."
We all sank into the couches, quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
“I have this picture of us on my phone,” Rob said suddenly, breaking the silence. He looked down, lost in thought.
"O-kay," I said, unsure where he was going with it.
“You know, it’s one of those pics you were always taking during the tour,” he said to Jordan. “When we weren’t looking… just in case you needed something… compromising… to use against us or something.”
They both laughed.
"I love it," he said softly.
"O-kay, " I repeated, "where are you going with this?" I asked him.
He pulled out his phone, scrolled for a moment, and handed it to me. Jordan leaned over my shoulder to look at it.
“Oh yeah, I remember this. I’m a bloody good photographer,” Jordan said with a grin.
Rob explained, “I thought… if we ever came out on social media, I’d do it with this picture. Just post it on Instagram, add a comment below, then wait and see what happens.”
I blinked at him. “You… were actually thinking about doing that?”
“Yeah,” he said with a small shrug. “I never thought I’d actually have to… but right now, it seems like the right move. Not sure I’ll have the balls to go through with it though.”
He let out a quiet sigh.
I had to admit, it seemed like a good move. It was a black and white picture that spoke for itself. It was lovely, quiet and intimate. We were sitting on a sofa, cuddling, he had his arm over my shoulders, his lips pressed on the side of my forehead, his eyes staring into space. My eyes were closed, a soft smile on my lips and I was holding his hand, fingers intertwined with his.
Jordan took the phone from my hands and smirked. “Well, someone’s gotta push you into it. And you know me, I’m great at pushing.”
Damon leaned forward to talk to Rob. “I say go for it. Worst case, people don’t like it. Big deal. We’ve survived worse.”
I smiled softly and squeezed Rob’s hand. “We’re just telling the truth. That’s it.”
Rob finally looked up at me with a small, hesitant smile. “I guess… it could be kind of freeing.”
I nodded. “Exactly. And think about the tour, you can sing without hiding anything. The fans will get it, really get us.”
Jordan spoke, still holding Rob’s phone. “Besides, it’s a beautiful photo. Honestly, it says more than any post ever could. People will love it.”
"What are you doing?" I asked as I saw he was tapping away, panic creeping in.
"Just editing the picture a bit.”
After a couple of minutes, he turned to Rob,
"What comment would you have written?"
"I dunno," he shrugged, hesitating.
Jordan smirked. “Sure you do. Come on, what’s in your head?”
Rob smiled lightly, glanced at me, hesitated again, and finally said, “the lyrics to ‘Ink,’ I think.”
I smiled. This was a sexy love song I had written after getting a tattoo on my hip, that I really didn’t want to release. But they had all insisted, so we had just decided to release it as a B-side, and I had hoped that people would not pay too much attention to it. Unfortunately, our fans did notice it and we’d had a lot of requests for it during the tour. We had also noticed that it was one of the fans’ favourites on our message board.
"People don’t really know that song," Damon commented.
"Our fans do," Rob shot back, his smile widening.
“Okay,” Jordan said, tapping the screen again. “Exactly which line?”
“Just the chorus,” Rob said softly. “‘All I know, is that I love you so, so much that it hurts.’”
Jordan grinned and typed the words. “Hashtag ‘fuck the Sun,’” he added, smirking.
We all chuckled, and he raised his eyebrows at us. “Ink?” he asked. “So they’ll know which song it’s from?”
We nodded in agreement.
“Together thru life,” I added, the words from the tattoo on my hip, the one I’d referenced in the song.
"Coming out?" Damon added, and we nodded.
"Anything else?" Jordan asked. "Gay ? … no ?"
"There," Jordan said and handed Rob his phone back. "All that’s left to do is to press ‘Share’. It’s perfect. Honest, simple, and true to who you are. No hiding, no excuses.”
Rob stared at it for a long moment, thumb hovering above the screen. Then he sighed heavily and let the phone fall onto his lap.
“Fuck… I can’t do this.”
“Come on, man! Do it!” Jordan urged.
"Christ! This is so nerve-racking," he sighed again, burying his face in his hands.
"Do it, you know you want to," Jordan insisted again.
Rob looked at me, searching my eyes for doubt, but I didn’t hesitate. I knew this was something we had to do - on our terms.
“Just do it,” I whispered, trying to give him courage.
“Are you sure?” he asked, still locked on my gaze.
“Yeah,” I said firmly. “It’s so much better than being outed by a tabloid.”
“Exactly! We can’t let The Sun win!” Damon added.
Rob picked the phone back up and stared at the screen, but nothing happened.
"Oh, come on!!!" Jordan said in frustration and grabbed the phone from his hand.
"Well, if you don’t have the balls to do this, I do!"
"Wait, don’t," Rob protested.
"Why not?" Jordan asked decisively. "Give me one good reason."
Rob hesitated, weakly. “Because… the band.”
"That’s not a good reason," Jordan replied, shaking his head.
"Does that sound like a good reason to you?" he asked Damon and Dylan who shook their heads no.
He looked back at Rob, then placed his thumb above the screen and asked me, “Mark?”
I nodded. “Just do it,” I whispered, exhausted from the tension.
He looked briefly at Rob again, saw the same doubt and ambivalence and handed me the phone.
"You do it."
I took a deep breath and didn’t think twice, I just pressed ‘share’
"Oh fucking hell, Mark," Rob sighed, sinking into the couch, his face in his hands.
"And you’re OUT!" Jordan smiled. "Way to go Mark, I didn’t think you’d be the one to do it."
“Me neither,” I muttered, tossing the phone back onto Rob’s lap. I pulled mine out of my jeans pocket. Jordan followed suit, then Damon, then Dylan, all ready to back us up.
"I can’t believe you did it, this was a bad idea," Rob complained, flopping back into the couch.
"Too late, at least he didn’t chicken out," Jordan teased.
"It was a great idea," Damon, said, trying to comfort him in our decision.
We all went quiet. It felt like time had stopped for a moment as we watched the screen. Then, after a couple minutes, Jordan exclaimed, “Oh my god, guys… comments are pouring in!”
They really were. The notifications came so fast it was hard to keep up.
Rob sat straight up, eyes wide. “Seriously? Already?”
“Rob, we’ve got twelve million followers on Instagram. There’s bound to be a few people connected,” Jordan joked.
"Fuck off, you smart-ass," he snapped, though there was a hint of a smile in his voice.
"Hey, don’t be like that," Jordan said gently.
I started laughing, remembering something Rob had said during our radio interview that morning.
“What’s so funny right now?” he asked, sounding half-aggravated, half-curious.
“What you said this morning about ‘A message’… ‘Maybe someday, we’ll tell you!’” I chuckled. “Guess what? Maybe today, we told them!”
“Oh shit!” he swore, burying his face in his hands. “How was I supposed to know?”
I laughed again as he finally looked at his phone, scrolling through the comments. We all did—some silently, some out loud. Most of the messages were supportive; a few haters were scattered in, but overwhelmingly, fans were cheering us on.
There were the usual reactions: ‘What the fuck?!’, ‘Are they gay?’, ‘No way!’, ‘I knew it!’, ‘Congratulations!’, ‘I love you!’…
And then one made all of us smile,
“Awesome! They make the most perfect couple. I love U-N-I, so much that it hurts!”
Rob looked up at me, a small, genuine smile on his lips. “Well… okay. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”
The comments were truly awesome,
Jordan laughed and read another: “‘If they break up, I’m suing the universe for emotional distress.’”
“And these ones,” Damon added, smirking, “‘The Sun can suck it. U-N-I won. Take notes, tabloids!’- ‘Looks like the Sun almost had a field day… not today! Good on you for standing strong.’
“Exactly,” I said. “We did this on our terms. No one’s controlling the narrative now.”
‘They act straight for gay dudes, what a plot twist!’” Jordan laughed. “People are wild!”
“Wild but supportive,” I added. “Look at all the love in these comments.”
Rob’s eyes flicked back to the phone. “‘I never thought I’d see the day when I’d be proud of a band for being gay… but here we are. Thank you for being real.’” His voice was soft.
Damon grinned. “That’s the thing man. People love honesty. They love you for who you are.”
Jordan nudged Rob. “And just think - this is only the first hour. Wait until all the fans wake up tomorrow morning!”
“Yeah,” Rob shrugged and said under his breath. “I’m pretty sure the haters will also wake up soon!”
Damon didn’t hear him and laughed as he read : “Another plot twist: The Sun reporters are sobbing somewhere right now.”
We all cracked up and he raised his phone in mock salute. “To honesty, chaos, and Instagram madness!”
We all raised our phones in a kind of digital toast and carried out scrolling through the comments. It was exhilarating.
“See, ” Damon said, “this is exactly what we were talking about earlier, listen, and he read a few similar comments.
‘Some of the lyrics hit differently now, knowing what they really mean. Incredible!’
“Ink is one of my favorite songs and now it makes so much sense. Beautiful!”
‘Ink is such an underrated song! Best love song after “Yellow”.’
“Your lyrics make so much more sense now, Robbie. I feel like I understand you guys on a whole new level.”
‘Just wanted a way of keeping you inside… I’m in shock, such a beautiful song… holy shit.” Damon laughed as he read this one and looked straight at me, and I felt a little embarrassed. I wasn’t sure I wanted people to know what that particular line actually meant. Damon read the next comment without reading the lyrics this time.
‘Stunning lyrics: “I see your road begin to climb, I see your stars begin to shine, I see your colours and I’m dying of thirst…” OMG, proud of you!’
‘I wonder if you really have a “Together thru Life” tattoo… I bet Mark does!’
‘INK is one of my favorite songs. Even more beautiful now knowing it’s about your relationship.’
“The chemistry is insane, the song lyrics hit differently now, and the picture… wow, just wow“
“Finally I can stop reading between the lines of your songs! Everything makes sense now. I love it.”
“Jeez, that’s insane,” I breathed and let that sink in a little.
“And all those Myemers comments, ” Rob said, shaking his head as he looked at me and read a few.
“Me screaming at my screen: ‘MYEMERS IS REAL?!’”
“Just spilled my tea because Myemers is… actually happening?!”
“Pretty obvious, straight guys don’t look at each other like that. Can’t wait for the kiss! #myemers”
“Myemers is real and I just want a t-shirt that says it in glitter.”
“This is not a drill. Repeat: THIS IS NOT A DRILL. #Myemers”
“Unbelievable,” he laughed and then said, “I’d wear that t-shirt!” and I cracked up.
Then he read one with emotion in his voice "gee, that’s deep, have you seen that one? ‘I think you might have just saved my life, thank you so much for coming out’"
"See! You saved a life, if that doesn’t make it worth it, I don’t know what does," Jordan said and Rob simply nodded.
Dylan started laughing and I asked him what he was reading.
"I wonder who’s top and who’s bottom!" he laughed again, reading the comment out loud and shaking his head.
We all chuckled and Damon turned to me. "Yeah, who’s top and who’s bottom?" he said in an inquisitive tone.
I frowned as I looked at him. "Seriously? You’re asking me this?" I asked him, raising my eyebrows. He laughed and shrugged.
"They’re versatile," Jordan answered simply, not taking his eyes off his phone screen.
Damon looked at him with curiosity, "How do you know that?"
"Hey, I’m his best friend, he tells me stuff."
Rob let out a small laugh and added, "You’re not his best friend, I am."
"No, you’re not. You’re the boyfriend now. He comes to me when he wants to talk about you."
"Oh come on!" I laughed, throwing my head back, "shut the fuck up, Jord!"
"Oh my God,” Dylan added, “some of these comments are just so funny! I swear!” he said and we tried to find some of the funniest ones to lighten up the atmosphere a bit more.
“Someone please make this a meme of ultimate friendship/love goals.”
“Can we get a live cam of their apartment? Asking for science.”
“The sheer audacity of being hot, in love and talented at the same time. Unfair.”
“I did not consent to feeling this many emotions. I’m suing.”
“Why are they both so hot? Who approved this?”
“I can’t decide if I should laugh, cry, or call my ex to tell them about this. Help.”
“Me: I’ll just check IG real quick IG: changes my life”
“Why does this feel illegal to look at.”
“Instagram needs a warning label for this.”
“The way I gasped?? Olympic level.”
“I wasn’t ready. None of us were.”
“This is not content. This is an event.”
‘OMG, the haters are losing their minds, I’m dying of laughter!’
-----
We kept reading and just hanging out, letting the moment settle. We called Tom to tell him not to bother coming over. He was completely shocked that we’d actually gone through with it.
Rachel texted me, where r u guys? I replied, and only a few minutes later the front door burst open. We all looked up at the same time.
She walked in with a friend and froze, staring at us for a couple of seconds.
“You guys came out on Instagram?” she yelled, wide-eyed.
Jordan burst out laughing. “They did!”
“Really? Oh my God - thank God!” she said, clutching her chest in relief. “I thought your account had been hacked or something. Why did you do it? What happened?”
Jordan quickly filled her in.
“Oh my God, this is huge. I can’t believe you actually did this!” she said. “Everyone at my college is talking about it. I even heard people on the Tube talking about it on the way here.”
“This is all Jordan’s fault,” Rob muttered. “He made us do it.”
“Why am I not surprised ?” she laughed.
“Someone had to,” Jordan replied with a smirk.
She came over and sat beside me, gently rubbing my shoulders. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It had to happen eventually.
Rob turned to her friend. “So… how are people reacting?”
Rachel answered first. “Honestly? Everyone’s shocked - like, completely gobsmacked - but no one’s been nasty about it,” she said, trying to reassure us.
Her friend laughed. “Yeah, but we are in Camberwell College of Arts, where most of the guys are gay! I guess people there are way more open-minded than most. Congrats, by the way. I still can’t believe you never told me!” she said to Rachel
“Hey, I can keep a secret!” Rachel said proudly. Then she leaned in and whispered, hand cupped around her mouth, “There’s something else I never told you.”
She nodded toward me, smiling. “I used to date him.”
Her friend stared at her.
“And he dumped me for him.”
“Oof,” her friend winced. “That hurts.”
“Yeah,” Rachel said. “It really did.
“Come on,” I said softly, pulling her into a quick hug and kissing her cheek. “You know you’re still my number one girl.”
She shook her head, still stunned. “I can’t believe you actually did this. Aren’t you freaking out?”
“Not anymore,” I said. “We’ve read so many positive comments… I think we’ll be okay.
“I know, we’ve read some on the way here, I love it.”
She looked at her phone and we continued scrolling through the comments together, reading a few more.
‘Just posted this to my story: U-N-I = goals. Period.’
‘Not shocked you came out. Sad we live in a world where anyone has to “come out” at all.’
‘I don’t care if you’re gay or not. People like you deserve to be happy and I hope that you are!’
‘Speaking of tattoos, I have “Look at the stars” tattooed on my arm—that’s how much I love you!’
‘I’m shocked, never would have guessed! Met Mark in France—no accent whatsoever, so charming!’
‘I kinda suspected Rob was gay but never guessed he was dating Mark.’
‘Thought you were just best friends, but the bond was obvious on stage.’
‘Stunned… weird for me as a straight guy, but I fully support you!’
‘Anyone else thinking of “Clocks” when Robbie sings “Am I part of the cure…? Or Am I part of the disease” Definitely part of the cure!’
‘You guys are officially my favorite couple in music. I want a poster of this pic!’
‘Seriously, the chemistry in that picture is insane. Like, I can feel the love through my screen.’
‘People saying this changes nothing: YES. It only makes me love you more.”
‘Being gay myself, this gives me goosebumps. You’re literally the representation I needed.’
‘I thought you were just best friends, but wow. I see it now. Love wins!’
‘OMG, I just love the photo. It’s everything. Can’t stop staring.’
‘If people have a problem with this, they can go sit down. You’re amazing.’
‘This band keeps surprising me in the best way. Keep being yourselves.’
‘Robbie, you’re amazing. Mark, you lucky lucky guy. And yes, girls, I feel you’
Rachel reacted to the last comment. With a dramatic pout, she fixed her gaze on me, daring me to speak.
I just let out a laugh as Rob announced.
"Well, I’m gonna call my mum, I don’t want her to find out about this before I tell her. I hope she doesn’t know yet."
"She would've called you already." I told him.
She obviously knew about our relationship. We had told her before leaving for London to promote our first album, or to be more precise, she had made us tell. She sat us down one evening after dinner and asked us, 'What is happening between the two of you?'
We didn’t know how to respond, so she turned to Rob.
"You're different since you started this band. Mark’s always around now, and whenever he’s not, you’re not the same - as if a part of you is missing. You two seem closer than ever. It’s like there’s a stronger bond between you. But I’m starting to think it’s more than just friendship."
And then we knew that she knew.
She looked at us, waiting. "Are you… lovers?"
At that moment, I wasn’t sure if Rob was ready to answer. But I couldn’t lie to her. She had saved me countless times. When she took a scared child into her arms and tucked him into bed beside her own son, she saved me. Every night when I needed her, her door was open. No questions, just love, care, breakfast, clean clothes, and refuge beside her son.
I could not lie to her. So I just told her the truth, and her reaction surprised us. She was very accepting. She told us that she had suspected for a while and that the good thing about it was that she had had time to sort out her feelings. She told us it could be hard to find love and that if Rob and I had it, then she was happy for us. She was worried of course, but very understanding.
My parents, however, still didn’t know, simply because I hadn’t talked to them in four years, and their opinions honestly didn’t matter to me. I just knew it would only give them another reason not to love me.
After spending another hour at Jordan’s, I finally went back to my place to check on Rob.
I found him in our bedroom, stretched out on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling as if he were trying to make sense of something written there.
“You okay?” I asked softly as I climbed onto the bed and sat beside him.
"Not really, no," he admitted, his voice low and rough. I was worried but I knew he only needed time. I could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitched slightly on the bed. He was exhausted, but not physically, emotionally.
"You called your mum?"
“Yeah,” he said after a pause. “She’s coming. Tomorrow morning, early flight.”
I smiled. "That doesn’t surprise me."
He hesitated, biting his lip. “Maybe you should call Amy,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “See if your parents know.”
Amy - my sister, and the only family I still talked to.
"If they do, I know how they’re gonna react. I don’t care."
I lay down beside him on my back, resting my head against his chest, and suddenly all my energy drained away. The rhythm of his heartbeat beneath me was calming. Normally, he’d wrap his arm around me without thinking, holding me close and making me feel safe, but tonight, he didn’t, and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
"Are you mad at me for outing us?" I asked him, a bit worried thay he might be.
He let out a long, weary sigh. “No… I’m not mad. I’m just… tired. And worried. And relieved. Honestly, I don’t even know how I feel right now.”
“The reaction’s amazing,” I said, trying to offer him something solid to hold onto. My hand found his, squeezing gently.
“Yeah, I know, but…”
“But?”
“Look… I’m trying to focus on the positive, I really am, but I can’t ignore all the haters,” he admitted, his voice low, heavy with exhaustion.
“Why not?” I whispered, leaning closer, wanting to understand him.
“I just… can’t.” His words barely left his lips, but I felt the weight of them.
“People saying we’re wrong, that it’s disgusting, that I’m… I don’t know, less because of this. It’s exhausting, feeling like I have to defend myself for something I didn’t do anything wrong for. That they hate the music, fine. But it’s more than that now. It feels like they hate us. And some days… like today, it feels like it’s too much to carry.”
I pressed my forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of him, trying to give him a small anchor in the storm.
“Hey…,” I murmured, my voice gentle, “I hear you. None of that changes us. None of that changes how I feel about you… or how we feel about each other. ”
I ran my fingers through his hair, holding him closer. “It’s okay to feel it, Rob. You don’t have to carry it alone. But think about it, no one has ever rejected you for this. Not me. Not your friends. Not your family. Your fans won’t either. They might even love you even more…so let’s not let the haters get to us."
He shifted slightly, worry appearing between his brows. “Why does it sound like that worries you?"
“What?” I asked, caught off guard.
“You said the fans might love me even more… as if it worries you.”
I hesitated. “Yeah… I guess, it does a bit,” I admitted, my voice small.
“Why?” His tone was soft, concerned.
I shrugged. "Is it really stupid that I’m a little scared of losing you?" I asked him sincerely, because that was exactly how I felt, that I might be losing control.
He hesitated,
"Yeah - why would you be?" I could tell he hadn't expected me to say this.
I sighed, "you’re Robbie Myers."
He let out a small laugh, soft and warm. "Not with you I’m not."
"They all love you so much! You’re gonna get even more attention now, and not just from girls anymore."
"So will you,” he said, a teasing spark in his eyes.
I smiled, letting out a small sigh. "Yeah, we’re gonna meet a lot of guys who'll want more than just an autograph."
He rolled onto his stomach and shifted next to me. His hand found my cheek and his thumb brushed lightly across my skin. Then he leaned down and kissed me softly, deliberately, like he was marking me as his.
“Well,” he said, pulling back just slightly, a grin spreading across his face, “they’ll know I’m taken. I’ll make sure they know that. I get to show you off now.”
I stayed quiet. He studied me for a moment, his smile fading into something more serious.
“What is it? Are you worried I might cheat on you or something?”
“No… I dunno,” I admitted, turning my head to the side. “I guess I’m worried that we won’t be able to control everything… and I don’t like not being in control.”
We didn’t speak for a few moments.
"Mark, look at me,” he said softly.
I didn’t move.
“Look at me,” he repeated, more firmly this time.
I met his gaze and saw car in his eyes, and certainty.
“They can throw themselves at me all they want,” he said gently, “but you’re the only one.”
A small smile swept across my face,
He laughed quietly and rolled closer, nudging me playfully. “C’mon… I know what you’re thinking. We’ve… done stuff, and yeah, maybe sometimes we should take our relationship more seriously. But let’s be honest, we both think having a threesome is fun, because we do it together. But I don’t want to cheat on you. You know that, right?”
“I know,” I said softly, my fingers brushing his arm. “Of course I know that. I just… I don’t want to share you any more than I already have to. And you’re right…”
“About what?” he asked, tilting his head.
“About the fact that… we should take our relationship more seriously.”
He nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah… but hey, we’re twenty-three. We’re still figuring it out.”
I nodded.
"Babe, I’d never do anything to hurt you," he told me sincerely.
I reached up and placed my hand on the nape of his neck, my thumb tracing slow, familiar circles there. He lifted his hand to my forehead, rubbing it gently, almost absentmindedly, as we held each other’s gaze.
“Hey, you’re the only one."
I smiled.
"You’re the only one, don’t ever doubt that, you’re the only one." he repeated in a whisper before kissing me.
"I love you." I said simply, because it felt like the only thing that mattered.
“I love you more,” he replied without hesitation. “Without you, none of this would even be worth it. We’re in this together. I couldn’t handle all that pressure on my own. I’d be a mess without you. I need you. I need you every step of the way. Together through life, right?”
"Right," I said, smiling, my voice thick with emotion.
My hand slid up into his hair and I pulled him close for a kiss.
He nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck and whispered. "You smell so good!"
"Do I?"
"You always smell good to me."
I knew exactly what he meant. His scent did the same to me, exciting and calming all at once, familiar and comforting. It made me feel safe, wanted, home.
He raised his head to look at me and smiled,
"I kind of see what you mean though, I do wish I could keep you all to myself."
I let out a laugh. "See!"
"My perfect man," he said, kissing me tenderly again.
“I’m not perfect,” I replied quietly.
“Yes, you are.”
He studied my face for a moment, his expression gentle and thoughtful. “You still don’t believe that, do you? ”
I smiled, a little self-conscious.
“That’s okay,” he said warmly. “That just makes you even more attractive.”
He gave me a loving kiss as he raised himself up and straddled me. “You are perfect,” he said with a soft laugh. “I love how sweet you are. How modest. You could show off so easily, you look like you walked out of a magazine - but you don’t. You’re just… you.”
I let out a small laugh, feeling my cheeks warm, and he smiled like he’d won something just by making me blush.
"Your skin, your eyes… your lips, you have the sexiest smile, you just have the most perfect features. Do you know how many times I popped a bone just looking at you?"
I shrugged,
"If that’s as many times as I did looking at you, yeah I know."
He giggled and pulled up my shirt with a mischievous grin. He caressed my abs and then licked my nipples.
"Gorgeous, just gorgeous."
His hand travelled to my waist and he slid his body down as he pulled my jeans off. Then, he pulled my underwear down a little to reveal my tattoo and rubbed his thumb over it before pressing his lips against it. He removed my underwear, planted a kiss on the sole of my foot and kissed his way up my leg.
I watched him but closed my eyes when I felt his breath on my cock, waiting for him to swallow me but he just gave it a few gentle strokes. He licked my balls and I shivered with anticipation.
"And I swear, you have the best cock. I love sucking on it, I love having it down my throat, I love feeling it deep inside me, I love tasting your cum."
The sound of his voice as he said those words made me groan with desire. He was kissing around my erection, touching me so gently, I was hard. I so wanted him to plunge my cock down his throat and make me cum but apparently, he had other plans, so I just tried to keep my orgasm in check,
"Rob, are you gonna suck me off?" I asked, begging.
“Maybe,” he teased.
He slid his body back up and I propped myself on my elbows to kiss him.
He broke away from me and took all of his clothes off, never breaking eye contact with me.
We were both working out often and eating well, which gave better muscle definition to our bodies and I just stared at his toned chest and his defined muscles as they came into view. He knelt on the bed in front of me and I regained my senses.
Before he had time to do anything else, I reached for his cock and held him in my mouth. It was already oozing with precum, so I wiped it off onto my finger and licked it with my tongue.
"Ohh yeah," he sighed.
As I started bobbing my head up and down his shaft, he grabbed my face and pulled me up to kiss me.
We both knelt on the bed and made out, running our fingers through each other’s hair. He placed his hands behind my thighs, grabbed them and made me fall onto my back before reaching for the lube in the nightstand drawer.
He poured some on his hand and applied it to my cock.
"But you know what I love the most about you?" he asked.
I simply watched him.
"Not your body," he said as he leaned over and brushed his lips against mine.
In a low whisper he said,
"You," and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. “Just you,” he continued, his voice warm and certain. “Every little thing you do - so effortlessly, so perfectly. The way you’re so natural in everything, like you don’t even try. I admire that about you more than you know.”
He kissed my lips and then locked eyes with me,
"And the way you look at me, right now, that look in your eyes, I love it so much. Because you see me, not as someone everyone else thinks they know, but as who I really am."
For a short moment, he pressed his forehead against mine. The outside world - the noise, the pressure, the haters - didn’t exist.
"I can't be without you. I can't bear the thought of losing you, it scares the shit out of me!" he pressed his lips against mine again before he spoke, "so don't you worry about losing me. I'm not going anywhere."
I smiled and stared lovingly at him as he raised himself up, positioned my cock and lowered himself onto it, my length sliding slowly inside him.
"Ughhh yeah, I love that!" he said, taking me down to the base.
He started slowly riding me, his eyes closed, a smile on his face. Still I stared at him. One of my hands roamed all over his chest, cupping his pecs, pinching his nipples as he fucked himself on my cock, moaning and my other hand was wrapped around his hard cock, I found myself wanting it inside me but I couldn't have everything at the same time.
He placed both of his hands on my shoulders to level himself as he started riding me faster, urging me to fuck him. I did my best to meet his pace, giving him short, quick thrust, making him whimper every time I pushed back in.
I was jerking his cock hard as well, wanting him to have maximum pleasure. He lowered himself down to kiss my lips and I grasped his face. We kissed passionately, moaning and I continued sliding the top of my cock in and out of him fast.
"Oh yeah baby, come on, fuck me! I’m all yours!"
I speeded up. He raised himself up and started riding me again, hard and fast. He kept slamming his body on my cock and after a few seconds, he groaned but I didn’t want him to cum yet. I raised myself up and grabbed his chest. My cock slipped out of him and I made him fall onto his back.
I laid down next to him and hooked a hand under his knee. My hand ran down his thigh.
He held his leg up and pressed my cock against his hole, teasing him with the head, and pushing forward a little, while we kissed.
"Oh, I can never get enough of this,” I groaned in his mouth and moaned hard when I pulled his hips to meet me, and impaled myself inside him.
"Oh yeah," he moaned, "fuck me," I raised his leg higher and penetrated him as deep as I could, quickening my pace and fucking him harder and harder. I rubbed his stomach and pecs as I thrust inside him, sometimes giving his cock a few squeezes to make sure he was still on the verge of cumming.
He squeezed his eyes shut and kept his mouth open, letting out small and stifled cries of pleasure. I was all over him, kissing, nibbling, twisting, licking, jerking.
After a few minutes, I started to slow down, until I completely stopped, and slid out of him.
I looked at his engorged penis and quickly lowered myself down and licked the base, up to the head, sucked on it a little and then I looked up at him. He guided me up, placing his hands on my neck. I supported myself on my arms on each side of him and he lifted his legs up, holding his knees. I kissed the hollow of his throat as I started pushing my cock back into him.
His hands slid down my sides and moved down to my ass. He gripped my cheeks and pulled me forward, throwing his head back and arching his back a little as I sank into him. God, that was hot.
"Ohh Rob, you're hot," I moaned as I kissed his neck.
He sighed and locked his legs around me, driving me even deeper into him and he ran his fingers up my back. His eyes were closed but as I started slowly moving in and out again, he opened them, and placed his hands firmly on each side of my face as he looked passionately into my eyes.
"Mark, fuck me hard, I want it hard, fuck that hard cock into me," he ordered.
Oh God, hearing him talk like this was too much. I felt a fire light up inside me and I attacked his mouth with my own, my tongue wrestling with his, feeling him respond aggressively as he pressed his hands on the back of my head and kissed me hard. I immediately started fucking him more vigorously and slammed my cock into him, driving him back into the mattress as he clenched around me and lifted his hips to meet my thrusts.
"Yeah that's it, just like that, fucking pound my ass," he whimpered as we licked each other's tongues and lips.
He pulled me off of his mouth and said again as he looked into my eyes,
"Fuck me hard!"
"Oh God Rob," I moaned as I attacked his mouth again and thrust hard in and out of him.
I grabbed his legs and pulled them up. I placed his feet on my shoulders and leaned forward, almost bending him in half. He slid his hands up and down my arms, feeling my hard biceps and moved his hands to my neck again as I started to hammer into him.
"Yes, fuck me, harder, oh god fuck me, yeah," he repeated as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations coming from his hole and the pleasure caused by me fucking his ass.
He opened his eyes again and pulled my face closer to his and smashed his mouth against mine as I pulled my cock almost completely out of him and thrust forward again, repeating the action more and more forcefully, my balls slamming against his cheeks every time I buried myself into him.
"Yes, yes," he whimpered as he roamed one hand all over my chest and felt my muscles tighten under his touch as I fucked him. He grabbed onto my pec and his fingers searched and pinched my nipple, twisting it away from my chest. God, he was gonna make me cum if he kept this up.
He looked into me with desire, and I was sure that no one but him would ever look at me with that much intensity. He wrapped his arms around me and dug his fingertips into my back, pulling me into him as much as he could.
His ass felt so amazing around my cock, he was tight and he kept contracting his muscles to give me more pleasure, but yet his hole was receiving me easily as I hammered into him,
"Oh you like that?" I groaned, "Take it baby!"
"Yeah, yeah, give it to me," he almost wailed as he pulled me into him again.
I fucked him long and hard, jabbing at his prostate, making him grunt and moan loudly, a sheen of sweat soon covering our bodies.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he panted after a while, "oh god, I need to cum," I grasped his hard slick cock and jerked it in time with my thrusts. He let his legs hang in the air and closed his eyes, letting out high-pitched cries as I pumped my cock hard in and out of him to send him over the edge, feeling my own climax approach too.
"Yeah, I, I'm cumming," he muttered and gasped as his body shook and he shot several powerful thick burst of cum all over himself, landing on his abs.
I had been holding back to give him as much pleasure as I could, but when he started cumming, I felt my body tense up and just as the remaining jets of cum blasted out of him, he opened his eyes and looked into mine and I asked with passion in my voice,
"D'you want me to cum all over you?"
He breathed heavily and blurted,
"Oh, yeah, do it, show me how bad you want me," he moaned in anticipation, staring up at me with pure lust, a fire burning behind his eyes and I smiled, thinking that we'd sell millions more albums if we put this face on the cover.
I let go of his cock and quickly pulled out of him, knowing I was going to cum hard. I felt my balls tightening and gave my cock a couple of strokes but Rob almost immediately grabbed it and pulled on it.
I let out a deep moan as soon as I felt his hand on me and began to pump my load, spraying and splattering thick ropes of white fluid all over him, feeling like I would be cumming forever. The first glob of cum landed on his cheek and he stared at my cock as he was being showered in my cum.
"God, you're so fucking hot," he said as I struggled to come back to reality.
I looked into his eyes and smiled before collapsing on the bed next to him, euphoric, in a sweat and exhausted.
"Fuck, we should come out more often," he joked and I laughed, remembering the very intense sex we had had after coming out to his mother.
He wiped off the cum he had on his cheek onto his finger and placed it on his tongue. I grinned and licked up some of the mess from his abs onto my tongue and leaned over to kiss him. He sucked on my tongue with a devilish grin and our lips met, as we shared our cum in the kiss.
I then cleaned his chest and he spooned himself against me.
"I'm so in love with you," I whispered.
“Same,” he simply said.
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