If you’re anything like me, or like any other person with social media on their phone, you’ve heard of and have an opinion on “Heated Rivalry.” I loved the series, and I’m definitely not the only one. Episode five, “I’ll Believe in Anything,” is particularly acclaimed: one of only 19 episodes of TV rated 9.9 on IMDb with over a thousand ratings. Many have taken its stunning success as a sign that society is becoming more accepting of queer people. But unfortunately, research shows that isn’t the case; according to data tracking changes in explicit and implicit bias over time, queer acceptance reached an all-time peak in 2020, but has declined faster than any other type of bias since.

So if not for a greater acceptance of queerness, why is a show about gay hockey players so popular in the mainstream? Why are (non-explicit) clips of a TV-MA show being played at NHL games? Why are we seeing this particular fandom reach the mainstream now? 

Queer desire becomes a spectacle which can only be enjoyed by those who do not love illicitly.

But there have always been instances of fanfiction, with the first real fandom emerged in the ’60s through the television series “Star Trek” (1966–1969). This is believed to be the source of some of the first erotic fanfiction, widely distributed through fanzines at conventions and other fan gatherings. As we progress further, into the internet age, the distribution of this erotic fanfiction, or “slash fic,” becomes increasingly quick, effortless, and nuanced. Websites like fanfiction.net, livejournal.com, and the ever-infamous archiveofourown.org began popping up, creating spaces specifically for this type of writing. 

Archive of Our Own’s, or AO3’s, robust tagging system allows for more detailed tracking of trends. When observing the types of relationships people write about, we find that fanfiction is overwhelmingly gay. When ranking the couples, or “ships,” which have the greatest number of written works, the first female character is No. 14, and the first lesbian pairing isn’t until No. 37. Through these rankings, we see the centrality of gay relationships over lesbian, straight, or other forms of queer relationships in fandom.

The next question is easy to ask, yet hard to answer definitively: why? First we need to acknowledge that fandom spaces around fictional media are primarily female. In 2017, 82% of romance readers were female. A famous Tumblr post tried to tackle this question of gay centrality in fandom, coming to the conclusion that women aren’t making these characters gay; they’re “fantasizing about being equal” to their partners. In this argument, writing about relationships between two women still constrains the writer to adherence to the patriarchal ideals surrounding women. Another potential factor could also be that this type of desire — meaning, desire between two men — is easy to remove yourself from as a woman, and enjoy as purely an outsider. Regardless of the reason, we know this phenomenon exists, and hugely impacts the way fandoms work.

I want to return to the topic of 2020, the year explicit and implicit positive bias toward queer people reached an all-time high before dropping once more. As we know all too well, this was also the year of the pandemic. Reading became more popular as people picked up new hobbies, and TikTok reading communities, also known as BookTok, exploded. These online circles pushed romance, especially erotic romance. BookTok inducted a whole new mainstream population into fandom, catapulting it into the limelight.

BookTok has created a mainstream space where erotic desires can be explored and enjoyed through reading. While exploring these desires is healthy and should be encouraged, combining fandom’s tendency to obsess over gay men and capitalism’s tendency to commodify anything in the public eye reveals a strange juxtaposition between fiction and reality. Ads are emerging for “Heated Rivalry” merchandise aimed toward fujoshi, or women obsessed with gay relationships. At the same time, in the United States, one in five hate crimes in 2024 were committed against queer and gender diverse people. Clips of “Heated Rivalry” are playing in arenas, yet trans people face restrictive legislation across the country. 

The uncrossable line seems clear: look, but don’t touch. You can consume and profit from queer desire, yet the second you participate, you become something other and illicit. You can watch Shane and Ilya on your TV, but daring to recreate those desires with someone you love is unacceptable. Heteronormative society makes queer desire illicit in practice and commodified in the mainstream media, echoing the refrain we all heard in childhood: “Do as I say, not as I do.”

This show about an explicit relationship between two hockey players has taken center ice in a time of fear and uncertainty for queer people. Because these queer characters are safely ensconced in viewers’ screens, there is a barrier allowing audiences to witness the illicit desire between two men while maintaining their own innocence. As these graphic scenes of queer intimacy and desire play out, the viewer can always turn off the television and return to normalcy. There is always an escape route that those who love illicitly cannot access.

It comes down to comfort in complacency. Viewers can explore forbidden desires in a way that maintains the purity of the self, as they do not directly participate in the act. At any moment, they can return to their lives of love unthreatened, while sating the deeper desires society would shun them for. Those who choose courage and to love the way they want are punished and ostracized, and the same viewers look the other direction; at the end of the day, they think, it has nothing to do with them. 

The world will continue to spin, people will continue to love authentically and illicitly, and they will continue to be punished for it.