Chapter Text
Reporter:
So the final vows just aired this last week for us, but it’s been two months now that you’ve been out in the real world. Tell us, Ed, Stede, how do you think your lives have changed since you entered the experiment?
Stede:
I mean it’s been an absolute whirlwind, hasn’t it, Ed? I wasn’t prepared for how much work would pile up while I was gone.
Ed:
Oh, god, the work!
Stede:
And of course the transition back is rough in lots of ways. I had to remember how to cook and clean again.
Ed:
I’m not confident Stede ever really knew how to cook.
Reporter:
And how have you managed living arrangements? You’ve got kids at home too, Stede - and for our audience at home, you’ll remember Stede’s ex-wife was also part of the experiment. Did that affect how the two of you decided to organise things?
Ed:
I mean, if we’re being honest, mate, I was just desperate to get as close to Stede as I could as much of the time as I could. You kind of get used to that super close contact when you’re in the show and relearning how to be your own kind of person again with space can be a bit difficult, so I tried my best not to do that, and just leant in to the whole thing.
Reporter:
So you moved in together?
Stede:
Let’s just say we’re cohabitating across two houses right now as we try and figure out how best to merge our rather large collections of stuff.
Reporter:
Are you a bit of a hoarder, Stede?
Stede:
Who? Me?
###
It had ended up being easier than Stede could have ever anticipated, merging their lives together into something coherent and cohesive outside the four studio walls. Sure, they hadn’t figured out yet whose house they liked better, or maybe neither of them were quite right yet and they needed to find somewhere else, that was definitely on the cards (Ed had worked commercial projects pretty much his whole career, but Stede found himself heartened by the number of books of residential architecture he kept bringing home and poring over in his spare time).
But it was incredibly easy to settle into a routine together. If he was honest, it wasn’t much unlike their days within the experiment. They woke up together, Stede often first. He’d go and make coffee for himself and strong tea with a million and one sugars for Ed. And then they’d inevitably have a little moment where one or the other of them couldn’t stop themselves from leaning into a kiss and it would take Stede’s last alarm of the morning to finally get them moving again. Off to work to meet with clients, to check out work sites or make a last minute Bunnings run.
It had been easy, too, for Ed to start sneakily recommending Stede’s company when his projects needed to find a contractor for their landscaping. There was something a little extra to talk about over dinner when they had shared clients to gossip about.
And still, there was always novelty. Ed kept surprising Stede, and Stede liked to think he kept surprising Ed too. There’s always something new to learn about each other: their preferences in body wash, their favourite pans to use for making scrambled eggs, that specific way Ed likes to be touched that leaves him whining and desperate and needy.
Stede likes to think he’s maybe one of the luckiest guys in the world.
“Honey, I’m home!” he calls, mostly ironically, as he pushes his way into Ed’s shiny chrome apartment, trying his best to keep his muddy boots on the doormat. He toes out of them, sets them on the rack carefully and then realises his overalls are just as covered in soil from his afternoon on his knees planting seedlings. With a sigh, he resigns the roomba to its fate of cleaning up after his mess once again.
“Stede!” Ed comes skidding round the corner with his socks sliding on the polished wood.
“Someone’s full of energy,” he grins. He can’t relate, body weary from the long day, but Ed had spent the day working on plans from home.
“And you’re wearing your overalls again.” Ed’s eyes are wide as he steps a little closer, sliding his way into Stede’s orbit. His fingers toy with the straps of Stede’s overalls, his lips curled in a grin. “My very own Jamie Durie.”
“I can see your mind thinking through a dirty filthy - literally - roleplay. Stop it!” Stede slaps away the roving hand that was going for his ass and fiddles with the buckles, trying to get them off. “I need to get cleaned up for the reunion tonight, can you please give me just a little bit of space?”
He should have known better than to start undressing in front of Ed when he was in one of those moods. Because instead of stepping away, Ed is pulling him in closer, undoing those straps with careful precision. “I can do you one better. I can help you clean up.”
And then Ed’s mouth was on his, and Stede could feel the minutes of their preparation time slipping away into the desperate heat of Ed’s touch.
###
Reporter:
So there were a lot of twists and turns and surprise connections this season, and the two of you often found yourselves in the middle of it. What was running through your head when your exes both entered the competition?
Ed:
Technically kind of two of my exes.
Reporter:
Right, you and Izzy had that whole homoerotically charged friendship going on. Viewers really resonated with that. So what was the thought process there?
Ed:
Well, mate, all I could think was #%^&.
Reporter:
This is primetime, mate.
Ed:
Oh, right, sorry. Well, it was a bit messed up. Definitely not something I knew about going into the show. Of course, you know these kinds of things love to bring the drama, and I was prepared to
bring the drama
if you get what I mean, but not like that. Plus, both Jack and Izzy can be right dicks when they want to be.
Reporter:
And of course, Jack was married to your ex-wife, Mary, isn’t that right, Stede?
Stede:
Yeah, I mean, I think we can all agree that the phrase “marriage” there was pretty loose.
Reporter:
Of course! Mary already had a man back home. A definite bombshell that one. How did it make you feel?
Stede:
Mostly just confused to be honest. But it was great going through a lot of this experience with one of my best friends. I mean, I guess my two best friends now, when you count Ed.
###
Why the fuck had he even agreed to come along to this thing? Oh, yeah, that’s right. Oluwande had waved the contract Izzy had signed around like some kind of threat. Sure, he probably could have found some loophole to get out of it, but it wasn’t worth his effort, really, and he could always get drunk on the free booze.
There’s only one camera set up tonight, and only Buttons around to man it. Oluwande sits up on his throne-like armchair, right back where everything seemed to come to a head so many months ago now, ever the Expert. Along with the notable absence of the camera array is also the notable absence of their other esteemed expert, Jackie herself.
No Jackie, and none of her husbands either. It makes the room seem a little warmer, even if it's quieter. More intimate maybe.
Izzy finds himself next to Fang, inevitably, the spot waiting for him to sit down. He can be polite about this, he really can. There’s nothing tethering him to the man any longer, in fact, if he doesn’t want to, he never has to speak to him again after tonight. And something about that is very freeing.
He holds his hand out and prompts Fang to shake it and things seem, if not good, at least cordial. Fang smiles at him like there’s no hard feelings and goes right back to his previous conversation with Lucius and Pete, leaning over the arm of the settee.
Edward and Stede sit on the opposite side of the semicircle, holding hands. They’re doing all the textbook things expected of two men in love, leaning into each other, keeping that casual point of contact. Izzy knows he should feel bitter, knows he would have felt bitter even just a month or so ago, but something’s lightened in him since, and instead he just feels a little pang of the most mild jealousy. Longing, even. He wants that.
Then there’s John and Frenchie, also tucked in close together. Ivan and Roach share share a loveseat amicably, though it looks like they’ve barely talked since they left the experiment. Mary’s spread out on her own little loveseat, sans Jack, and Izzy catches her shooting Stede pleased smug little grins. He’s surprised with himself that even he’s glad Jack’s not fucking here, good riddance, the tool.
And then, of course, on the other side of Mary, trying to catch his eye, is Oskar. He looks good, with his bright blonde hair all swept back off his face. Izzy has a vivid sense of memory of dragging his fingers through that hair, grazing Oskar’s scalp with his nails. Izzy almost doesn’t notice Jim, curled up like a cat beside him, their knees tucked into their chest as their gaze focuses on Oluwande.
He shakes his head to break the moment and looks away from the two of them. Nothing good could come from staring at Oskar too long, and anyway Oluwande is motioning for them all to pipe down and focus as the camera starts rolling.
“Welcome everyone,” he says with a dramatic pause, leaning into the kind of dramatic pacing that makes perfect television, “to our reunion. We’re meeting today now two months out from the final vows and for a lot of us, life has taken some significant twists and turns. We’re here to refresh our memories of the experiment, share with the group our experiences, and generally bring a sense of closure to our time together.” He glances around the room, taking a moment to catch everyone’s eye, and Izzy feels himself fidgeting uncomfortably under that momentary level of attention.
“And of course,” Olu continues, voice calm and level, “this is also an opportunity for me to describe for you, our couples, and the broader audience, what’s actually been happening these past few months behind the scenes.”
Oh fuck here it is. The big elephant in the room. They’d all heard things secondhand of course, in the media and, although Izzy hadn’t watched a single episode himself, in the revised edits of the show, especially after Week Six.
But no one quite had the full picture, except Oluwande and Buttons, and maybe Jim.
“This season has held a lot of bombshells. For those of us here tonight, there were many twists and turns, but probably none more so than for the people who aren’t in this room tonight. And that’s because Los Sietos Gallos has declared bankruptcy in the face of a large-scale stock price crash after their dodgy behaviour and business practices was revealed. Footage recorded in this very room was leaked to the media, and in the wake of that scandal, the show has since been taken over by the network, primarily to recoup investments.”
There's a bit of a pause, another scan of the room. When Izzy flicks his eyes towards Jim, he sees them lean forward in their seat, a little too eager.
“And as you may have seen, the episodes that have been airing over the past weeks have remained in their unedited form, despite televised threats from the previous executive to make dramatic editing changes.”
Unedited my ass, thought Izzy, but the sentiment held true, he guessed. Jim and Oskar had both made appearances on the show, including Jim’s potentially stupid, potentially genius knife stunt.
“And that brings us to all of you, our couples.” Oluwande motions with his hand around the group. “It’s time for you to tell us a bit about what life has been like since you’ve left the experiment. How do you feel you’ve grown, either independently or as a couple?”
It takes them what feels like an hour to get around everyone, especially since Buttons has to do all his reframing independently, lining up new shots and hauling the heavy Olivia camera around. They talk about John and Frenchie, who’ve decided marriage is definitely not for them, despite the fact they’ve now moved in together, adopted a small dog - “Because cats are witches,” Frenchie says - and are very comfortable in their new life-sharing situation.
Life-sharing. I mean, that’s a word for it , Izzy guesses.
Mary’s up next, showing off the understated but beautiful engagement ring Doug had given her after she’d gotten out of the tricky bind with Jack. Good thing he’s not here, he would have been trying to find ways to slip the damn thing off her finger and pawn it at the nearest shop, if his sordid history was any indication.
Ivan talks about how he’s expanding his dentistry clinic to a second location and Roach talks about the new restaurant he’s in the process of opening, and how both their careers are going particularly well the past few months. The kind of business improvements only a few months of carefully televised marketing can get you. Neither have had much success in love lately, but Ivan has steered clear of the apps and Roach is mainly just looking for casual right now, or so they both say.
Lucius, Pete and Fang, of course, have all moved in together and Izzy can’t think of anything more sickly, even if he does find himself oddly kind of happy for them. They’re obviously desperately in love with each other, if the way Fang’s practically halfway off he and Izzy’s couch to keep his hand on Lucius’ arm is any indication. Absolutely smitten, and it makes Izzy a little nauseous in a fond way, which is only exacerbated when Lucius says, “Just the three of us for now, but who knows, maybe we’ll get back on the apps!”
At Oluwande’s prompting, Izzy finds himself telling the room all about his brief torrid love affair with Oskar. Intense and fiery, like a match, it had burned and fizzled out quickly, but god, Izzy has never met another man so good with his hands. When his gaze flicks over to the Swede’s seat, he feels that little fizzle burn up again, but it had ended once before with the two of them alone in their own apartments in different cities, unwilling to quite bridge the gap to make things work. They’d even set each other up on some average-to-mid dates.
It’s not worth going back again, Izzy reminds himself. No matter how good the sex would be, it would still be a hotel room and they’d still part ways and-
No. He’s better than this. He knows better.
He lets Oskar draw a small smile from him, but he doesn’t entertain the idea any further than that. That’s all it’s going to ever be.
They come to Ed and Stede, madly in love, of course. Theirs, unlike the smitten trio or really any of the others in the room, feels like a different kind of tone, more solid and unwavering than the desperate flow of outward affection. That’s a bit of an analysis for when he feels bored enough to overthink about the relationships of friends and acquaintances. Izzy honestly can’t quite believe he was once… jealous of Stede.
They sit with their ankles pressed together, animatedly finishing each other's sentences as they talk about the ways their businesses have slowly become more entangled as they refer clients to each other; how Ed’s been taking on less corporate clients, which Izzy was already aware of. What he was less aware of, was the joy in Ed’s face when he talks about it, the way he looks at Stede with such affection. Fuck, it’s practically sickening.
Could Izzy have ever even had that with Ed? That casual affection, so open and simple? He’d always been a loyal friend to Ed, but he’s not quite sure if that was every reciprocated, and even then, loyalty isn’t… love.
Izzy shakes his head, forcibly pulling himself from those thoughts and instead tries to focus on Oluwande, as he wraps up the whole discussion. Does it feel like a proper conclusion? For the cameras, of course it does. It’s a neatly wrapped up denouement for the viewers, where they can feel satisfied that these people they’ve shared the past eight weeks with will continue their lives happily.
But lives aren’t like that. Real lives aren’t a TV show. They don’t start when the cameras start rolling and they sure aren’t going to stop when the cameras stop. Everyone’s only on a single step in their journey or whatever.
Oluwande finishes up his speech, which Izzy barely hears, and grins at them under the bright stage lighting. “Turn the camera off, Buttons,” he says, flinging out his arms in welcome. “I’m cracking open the rum!”
###
Reporter:
And then of course, there was everything that went down with Los Sietos Gallos.
Stede:
Yeah.
Ed:
Yep.
###
“So, what actually happened with Jackie and her husbands?” Mary asks as she sips at her Mai Tai. Lucius has hooked up his Spotify to the studio speakers and everyone is dancing or mingling or some in between of the both. Mary finds herself most interested in finding out everyone’s sordid details. “Obviously, I know you guys couldn’t tell everyone in front of the cameras, but surely there’s some extra drama you can tell us.”
Oluwande has settled himself on one of the smaller loveseats with a piña colada and Jim nestles beside him, both clearly not too keen on dancing. There’s something in the way they lean into each other, comfortable and at ease. Oh, there’s definitely some sordid details here.
“Well,” Oluwande begins, taking a deep gulp from his drink. “I mean, Jim’s announcement to the media when they were escorted away was the first big step.
“How did the journalists even know to be there?” Mary asks.
“Oh, a well-placed text or two never goes astray.” Olu taps the side of his nose slyly and Jim beside him grins. “And then that primed everything perfectly for some anonymous phone footage of Jackie’s rants to be leaked. That did most of the hard work for us, to be honest. Pretty damning, if I do say so myself.”
“She really did dig herself a bit of a hole with that one.” Mary can’t help the giggle she hides behind her drink. God, how is she already this giddy on a single cocktail and half a glass of wine? “I still can’t believe you just… did that? And the studio went along with it?”
Jim smirks, silent and Oluwande nudges them gently with his shoulder. “I mean, it was a bit touch and go for a hot minute there. Obviously Jackie was out, but we weren’t sure what they were going to do about the rest of the show. Seemed a shame to sink so much money into it and not air it, but you never know. I’m not an executive, just an actor, so that was all a bit too far out of my hands.”
Mary’s jaw drops. “You’re an… actor? Not an expert?”
“I mean, I have a bachelor’s degree in psychology, but so do heaps of people. I’m certainly not a therapist.”
“I knew it! I knew it!”
Olu shrugs, sipping at his drink again. “Honestly, I thought everyone knew. It’s a TV show, Mary.”
She scrunches up her face, caught between frustrating and laughter. “Of course, but like… a reality TV show.”
Another shrug from Oluwande and Mary can’t stop giggling. She sips at her drink, trying to keep things under control, but even the sweet fruity taste can’t stop it. She feels full of energy, full of frantic, ridiculous joy. “God, I’m glad my kids are at home,” she mutters, mostly to herself, and then stands up suddenly. “I think I’m gonna go dance.”
Oluwande and Jim cheers their drinks to her and she taps them back before making her way out to the cobbled together dancefloor. All the seats have been pushed aside, leaving just enough space for a small group of slightly drunk individuals to dance together. Not everyone is dancing well, it has to be said, but everyone’s laughing and having fun. Lucius, Pete and Fang are all holding hands in a little circle, taking turns to guide the vibe of the group. John and Frenchie are boogying to the beat, and right in the centre, like they always manage to be, are her ex-husband as his new husband. Ed’s arms are around Stede’s shoulders, Stede’s around his waist, and both sway slowly to the song that is really too upbeat for this kind of moment.
She scooches her way over to them and wraps an arm around each of their shoulders. The remains of her cocktail slosh in the glass, but she manages to just keep everything in place and not all over Ed’s shirt.
“Evening, lovebirds,” she grins.
“Hey, Mary.” Stede offers her a pleased smile and Ed’s answering grin is equally vibrant. “Are you having a good night?”
She leans her head back a little to smile at the ceiling. “The best. I’ve got two out of three of my favourite men here, I don’t have to think about parenting right now and I get to dance to the best music and drink silly cocktails and show off my ring- oh!”
Her ring! She brings her left hand out to hold it up for Stede. They’d known about the engagement of course, but she hadn’t had a good chance to brag to them properly yet. The ring sat nestled perfectly on her finger, beside the rather austere diamond that Stede had given when they were younger, now on her middle finger. She’d found herself unable to quite give it up, and with Doug’s contribution, it all seemed to work so perfectly on her hand, not too much, not too little. Just right. Her perfect family.
“I love you both!” she says, a little too loud, as Stede turns her hand in his to get a better view. “I love my family!”
Ed grins at her, taking her right hand and using it to twirl her in a little spin. “Love you, Mary,” he says, and Stede echoes it softly.
“Love you, Mary.”
And then she gets swept up in a change of song, into a 90s track she hasn’t heard for years but brings back memories of crazy parties she has only the vaguest recollection. She lets the music guide her, swaying her body to the beat. What a life!
###
Reporter:
Do we think this is the last we’ll see of the show? Is it the final season?
Ed:
I think that’s a bit above our paygrade mate. We’re just husbands, not producers.
Reporter:
You must know some insider goss, surely.
Stede:
I think we’ll know just as soon as everyone else does.
###
In their little corner of the room, Jim curls a bit closer into Oluwande. The other couples are all mostly too drunk now to pay attention to either of them, or else too caught up in their own little worlds. There’s something about that thin veil of privacy that makes Jim bold.
It’s easy to slip their arm around Oluwande’s, tugging them both closer together. It’s easy to lean their head gently against his shoulder.
“How are you feeling, Jim?” he asks, voice low.
“Mm.” A non-committal positive, but Jim’s not quite ready to put words things yet. They’ve talked a lot over the past weeks, months even, about what all this means: what they can promise each other, what they’re ready and capable of providing. It’s been an active process for Jim, giving up that sweet rush of adrenaline in the moment of vengeance for what matters more: stability, fairness, justice. Love.
In the middle of the dancefloor, Ed and Stede slow dance, whispering to each other. Jim leans a little closer into Oluwande, shoulder, hip, thigh pressed together. “What do you think they’re whispering about?”
Olu doesn’t answer right away, seemingly lost in thought. His palm traces the line of Jim’s knee, a comforting presence. Jim could get caught up in that repetitive motion, that sweet pressure and sensation. Even the loud music and the bright lights aren’t enough to dim the heat of that touch.
Finally, he speaks. “I think,” he begins, voice soft, “they’re talking about how different it feels now compared to when they first came here.” He doesn’t turn towards Jim, but they can feel his attention on them, pointed and direct. “About how before they came here, they didn’t really think love was ever in the cards for them. They might have known a lot about love, but they hadn’t ever really had it properly either, not like this.”
“Oh.”
“Mm,” Olu agrees. “And I think it's the kind of important things they need to tell each other. Like…” He pauses for a moment, his touch on Jim’s knee turning firmer, a little more pointed. “Like how much they appreciate having someone else in their space, someone to be there for them. How they want to protect each other, even if it means letting each other be free.”
Jim pulls away a little, instead turning their whole body to face Oluwande. He doesn’t take his eyes off the dancefloor, but his mouth is quirked in a nervous little smile and Jim just knows his cheeks would be hot if they placed their fingers there.
“We’re not talking about Ed and Stede anymore, are we?”
At that, finally, he turns. His hand dips to catch around Jim’s shoulders, keeping them close. “Fuck,” he laughs. “ No. We weren’t ever talking about Ed and Stede.”
“ Olu,” Jim murmurs and then slips their hand up towards that heat, cradling his face in their hands as they kiss him, deep and eager and wanting. “Fuck, I love you.”
Oluwande hums a pleased little sound against their lips as he pulls them closer, holding them firm against him. When they break away, his eyes are shining. “Good. I love you, too.”
And then he dives in again, as if he can’t hold himself back from more, from Jim .
###
Reporter:
Do you think baring yourselves for this kind of experiment was worth it, in the end?
Stede:
This show has changed my life in so many ways. I can’t imagine what my life would be like right now without it.
Ed:
Bumping into me at work gigs, trying not to stare at how hot I am maybe?
Stede:
Maybe I’d be wowing you with my detailed knowledge of soil types.
Ed:
I think I’d just be ogling your arms in those overalls, love.
###
The car ride back from the reunion feels quiet, the back of the hire car a cool respite from the blaring music of the studio. Stede hasn’t let go of Ed’s hand for what feels like the past hour. He can’t help himself. His husband, his husband, his husband.
And he’s more than a little bit tipsy, which surely isn’t helping. It makes him want to crawl into Ed’s skin, just to feel him a little better, even though that’s probably more than a little insane. He feels hot and itchy in his suit jacket, but the pads of Ed’s fingers are dancing against his knuckles in a soothing way and his foot is tapping a smart little rhythm against the floor of the car.
“Did you-” Stede asks around a hiccupy breath, “have a good time?”
“I had the best time, mate,” Ed replies, and leans his head against Stede’s shoulder just a little. “I was always gonna, coz you were there.”
“Oh.” He finds himself grinning. Sometimes, especially in times like these when he’s not quite in full control of his faculties, Stede is surprised to remember how much Ed loves him. That he might just be Ed’s favourite person. It feels him with a kind of bouyancy, like he could float right around the window if it weren’t for Ed’s grip on his hand.
“And,” he asks, like he just can’t quite help himself, “do you think you’ll miss this place, I dunno, five, ten years down the line?”
“Ten years?” Ed’s voice is incredulous. “When we’re going to the kids graduations or working on a next cottage with the floor to ceiling dedicated books and knick knack shelves? When I’m calling you “old man” and you’re calling me “old geezer”?”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, Ed.”
“I sure have.”
Stede smiles softly, squeezes his hand tighter. Ed kisses the top of his head in a wordless reply. “And what’s your answer?”
Ed’s reply has him laughing so hard he’s not sure he can still feel his side by the time they’re pulling home.
“Will I miss this place? Fuck no .”