Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ed is such a cliché.

He’s sitting on a park bench trying, in vain, to stop the tears that keep wandering in criss-cross paths down his cheeks. Fucking tears. The worst part is that he can’t stop. He’s started, and now the tears just keep coming, no matter what he does to cork the flow.

Fucking Charles.

Yes, that feels better. 

Anger feels better than despair and tears. It at least feels like he has control, even though he knows well that control is an illusion. Nobody has control of anything, and he doesn’t have control of Charles.

Charles.

It isn’t too surprising that the fucker broke up with him. Their relationship had been rough, and he sensed a growing divide — sensed it and ignored it.

Still, it feels terrible in the moment.

It doesn’t matter that he’s an idiot, though, because he was Ed’s idiot, and how he’d broken up with him, the reason…fuck, the reason is too much for Ed to wrap his head around.

Someone approaches, and Ed averts his gaze, trying to avoid him altogether. Unfortunately, the figure stops right in front of Ed, and Ed has to look at him through tear-blurred eyes. 

“Uh, hi.” 

The man is blurry, yet Ed’s pretty sure he’s handsome. He has soft, swooping blonde hair and gentle eyes. He is also wearing adorable round-rimmed glasses that sort of hang low on his face.

“Hey, you…you need something?”

“No. I just…I noticed you were upset.” 

Without asking, the man sits down on the bench next to him. It is a little — or a lot — presumptuous, but it’s also kind of nice. 

“I know this is out of line, but is there anything I can do to help?”

A chuckle escapes Ed as amusement bubbles up inside him. He can’t even help himself; it’s just so sweet. It is presumptuous as fuck, but that doesn’t mean that it’s unwelcome or even unwanted. Even if it’s a little bold, it’s nice. It’s good.

“I’m okay.”

He says what he can to assure the man, not because he’s okay, of course, but because that’s what you say in these kinds of situations.

“Really?”

“Just having a shit day and trying to calm down before I go home.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

That’s usually the part where the person gets up, mutters that they hope things get better and leave, breaking off the conversation; evidently, that isn’t what’s happening here, though. 

“Uh…”

“What made you so sad, if you don’t mind my asking?” 

With most people, Ed would have found that so rude, but it’s comforting with this guy, like a warm hug from a stranger. Why? He’s not sure, but there’s something about the way he speaks — like he actually cares for a random stranger on a park bench — that Ed likes a lot.

“I was dumped.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. In hindsight, I saw it coming, and I know that it’s better for me. He wasn’t good for me, you know? But it sucks, God, it sucks so bad.” 

“Oh, I understand that!” 

The man speaks so earnestly and looks so sincere with his wide, hopeful eyes. 

“I am divorced, unfortunately,” the stranger adds. “It was a devastating feeling back then, even though the divorce was most definitely the right choice for both of us and we’re better off today.”

“Divorce sounds rough. Doubt I’d ever get married, but it’s got to be worse when the government is involved…”

“I’m sorry. It’s probably really rude that I’m bringing my stuff into this. You’re going through something, and that’s…”

“It’s okay, mate.”

“Uh, I’m Stede.”

Stede. He likes that name.

“Ed.”

Ed blinks away the rest of his tears and really takes in the man next to him: he’s probably somewhere around Ed’s age, a brick of a man with a broad, square chest and legs that look gorgeous in his black jeans. His little glasses slide down his nose while he talks. Okay, this is bad — he’s mourning a breakup, and checking out another guy is not the right move.

Now Ed’s in an awkward place. After all, what else is there for him to say? A stranger finds him crying in a park, they talk, and now what? 

As things feel really weird, he notices a pin on the lapel of the other man’s white button-down shirt. It’s brightly colored, in pinks and yellows, and when he focuses his gaze, he recognizes that it’s a little moth.

“Hey, I like your pin…”

Stede looks down at his shirt, almost as if he’s forgotten what he’s wearing, then he recognizes the pin and smiles.

“Oh yeah, I forgot I had this little guy on. Dryocampa rubicunda, the rosy maple moth.”

“I…I am saying this as someone who thinks it’s fucking awesome, so no judgment, but why are you wearing it?”

“I’m an entomologist — er, insect scientist.”

“I knew what that meant.” 

Stede smiles, and it’s such a warm smile, like honey spread across a flat surface, dripping and sugary sweet.

Stede launches into a speech about the insect pinned to his shirt. Ed has never found insects all that interesting — honestly, he doesn’t mind most of them, but he still wants crawly things to stay very far away from him — and yet there is something about the way the man speaks, like the moth is the most important thing in the world.

It’s so cute.

“So where’s this little guy from?” Ed asks, pointing to the Rosy Maple Moth again. 

“Oh, more on the eastern side of the US, anywhere you find maple trees.” 

“I see. The colors are really pretty…”

“Unique, right?”

“I’ve never been much for creepy crawlies…but I can tell you love them.” 

“I do.” 

The air between them gets heavy and silent, and Ed sighs, wiping his hand through his sweaty hair.

“I don’t know how many guys will sit with the sobbing wreck at the park and comfort him…”

Stede shrugs his shoulders.

“Maybe I’ve been a sobbing wreck at the park before.”

“Fucking Charles,” he growls, “I hate him so much.” 

Stede hesitates.

“I…don’t know if it’s too personal, but what caused the two of you to break up?”

“It’s complicated, honestly, there are a lot of factors, but…he found out I was bisexual.”

Stede looks at him with a strange expression that Ed can’t read at first. His eyes are wide and open and willing to listen to him, though, even if the expression is a little too intense, a little too emotional over the story of a stranger.

“What?”

“He really wasn’t cool with it.” The words flow out of him like water, and Ed spirals a little, annoyed at himself, knowing he shouldn’t be so vulnerable with someone he doesn’t know. “He said that it was bullshit.”

“Why would it bother him?” 

“Why indeed?”

It had come out in the most innocent way. He was talking about a bi pride video that he found on a fucking Instagram account of all things. It was a casual conversation, altogether meaningless.

“And the girl was wearing the bi flag and dancing with her kids. I have to find it…”

“Bisexual. Psh.” 

It was so subtle.

Charles just scoffed out the word bisexual, but Ed knew exactly what he meant by that, and his heart had sunk to the floor. Part of him had thought about ignoring the comment, but he couldn’t.

“What?”

“Nothing.” 

“Do you have something against bisexuals?”

“Nah, it’s just not a thing,” Charles had said with a shrug, like his words weren’t wounding Ed deeply. “Bisexuals are just people who haven’t figured themselves out yet. I don’t get why…”

“You know I’m bi, don’t you?”

Charles laughed at him then, like he was being an idiot. Ed had felt dismissed by his boyfriend before, but never in such a blatant way. 

“There’s no way that you’re bi. You’re with me. Your last boyfriend was…”

“Jack,” Ed said, wincing at the memory of his ex-boyfriend. He had a series of shitty partners, what could he say? While Jack was far worse than Charles, apparently he was going to meet Jack shitty action for action that day. “Yeah, and before him I had a girlfriend, Anne.”

“But you guys were like in high school…”

“I was twenty-two when I dated Anne, not in high school,” Ed scoffed. “I’m bi, Charles, and God, I’ve been out as bisexual since I was like…a teenager and it hasn’t changed.”

“No way. You were in the closet, weren’t you? I had a girlfriend too when I was like fifteen and didn’t want people to know I liked dick, but that changed when I grew up and got over it.”

“I’m bi, Charles. Don’t act like that’s something so controversial.”

“I think that’s nuts. There’s no way you’re bisexual; it’s total bull.”

It’s weird how everything suddenly blew up then. It devolved into Charles calling him nasty things like insane, unwell, not okay…

It makes his stomach twist just thinking about the fights that followed. The fights that happened so fast.

And their relationship ended with Ed saying, “I’m bisexual, so deal with it, asshole.”

The last fight ended with Ed walking away furious.

Charles was pissed too, and Ed was sure that he’d come to his senses because he always did. He’d make up with Ed in a day or two and apologize for hurting him. 

No, Charles broke up with him over text.

“Wow, he sounds like an absolute asshole.”

Ed grins at the bluntness of the statement and the apologetic way that Stede says it. He doesn’t seem like someone who’s used to being rude, or even a little crass, and it’s cute. 

“He was an asshole. I’m glad that I’m rid of him, as sad as I am.”

“I get that.”

“I don’t even know exactly why I started bawling,” Ed admits, feeling a little ashamed now that things have been said and done. “I guess that it sort of feels like Charles and I are the end of an era, you know?”

“I think I can understand that,” Stede says, rubbing his fingers together in a way that seems soothing to him. It soothes Ed too, quiets something in his head that keeps getting louder. “You get really stuck in your idea of how things should be sometimes, even if they’re not going that way at all.”

“Yeah, I think part of me knew we were going nowhere, but still the biphobia, man, it caught me off guard…”

“I don’t understand the idea of biphobia,” Stede admits, “especially coming from someone who I assume identifies as gay. Like, I’m not entirely sure about my sexuality, honestly, but I often assume that I’m gay. Why would I care if someone was attracted to multiple genders? Especially since I know how hard it is to figure out who you are, to understand it…”

“I don’t get it either, man. Like we’re all in the same queer boat.”

Stede laughs, and his laugh makes Ed feel oddly warm. 

“I don’t think that some people understand that variety is the true spice of life.” 

Ed cannot help but laugh a little, because that sounds so strange, so cliché, but so cute. Usually, men their age tried to avoid saying things that sounded cute, but Stede seems unashamed, so free with who he is.

“You seem to be quite wise, strange man.”

Stede shrugs his shoulders, and there’s a lightness in him, the same looseness that comes from years of caring too much. 

“I don’t think I’m wise.” 

Stede pauses briefly before he speaks, a knowing expression on his face.

“I came out at forty-five years old, though, so I have no tolerance for people who can’t understand some differences, especially in someone they’re supposed to love.”

Ed tries not to show how shocked he is. He fails. 

“Forty-five?” 

Stede smiles, but it’s a sad little smile that speaks of years of trying to figure himself out, and Ed knows it must have been exhausting, spending so many years uncertain.

“I know it sounds crazy, right? I think I knew I liked men, at least, much younger, but I shoved it away into the back of my head.”

“Like a little box in your mind?”

Stede smiles at his description, his head tilting towards Ed, and the expression is so fond.

“Actually, that’s a very apt description. It felt like I had truly compartmentalized things, pushed them into a little box that I refused to reach for.”

“My friend Frenchie used to say that a lot,” Ed explains, shaking his head. “He said that’s how he deals with traumatic things.”

“That’s probably a bad way of dealing with your problems.”

“I know, right?”

“But I didn’t accept who I was, even if I kind of knew deep down, or at least most of me knew deep down.” 

“I think the world does that. Box you in. Make you feel you have to fit into society’s mold of who you’re supposed to be.”

“I agree. I am just now figuring out how to live with myself, with who I am.”

“I…that’s really nice, you know,” Ed says, and he genuinely means it. “A lot of times we think there’s an expiration date for figuring your shit out. Like if you don’t have it down by the time you’re twenty, screw you, you’re done for.”

“I felt like that for a really long time.”

“I guess learning takes time.”

“That it does.” 

Ed smiles as he looks at the man who helped him through so much.

“I’m really thankful for you, you know?” he says, trying his best to be genuine. “You helped me through a crisis as a total stranger. I feel…a lot better.”

At that, Stede absolutely lights up — no, seriously, his face breaks out into this goofy grin and it’s like if sunshine were a person. Ed looks over at him and then has to look away, like he’s not sure if that’s something he sees, if that brightness is really for him. 

“It’s my honor, Edward…” Stede murmurs. “You went through something very terrible.” 

“It is terrible, but I’ll get over it. Charles and I weren’t going anywhere. I just hoped…that it might since, y’know…”

“I get that.” 

Stede smiles a little more and wow, he has one of the most beautiful smiles that Ed has seen in his life. It’s warm and friendly and just makes him want to melt in front of it. Stede looks down at his hands and then back up at Ed. 

“Hey, Edward. You know. I know this is bold, and you could totally tell me to fuck off, but-” 

“I would never tell you to fuck off.” 

“When things are better and you’ve gotten past this…Charles -" Ed notes Stede says his voice with distaste, like he’s something nasty " -would you like to get dinner sometime?”

“Oh, I’d love that. Can we exchange numbers?”

Ed knows that there’s a sense of decorum and he needs to follow it. He’s just broken up with his boyfriend and just randomly connecting with some guy… it’s probably not cool. But then again, Charles is a jerk. And Ed is bisexual, proud and really likes this cool bug guy. 

“I’d love that.”

“Fantastic.”