Chapter Text
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"I don't know why I agreed to this," Jimmy muttered, eyeing a group of men in leather harnesses walking past. His fingers curled into the hem of Curly's sleeve.
The bass thrummed through Jimmy's chest, pumping his heart for him. The music was loud and inescapable, vibrating through the pavement beneath his shoes. He pressed closer to Curly's side as the crowd surged around them, their shoulders bumping together. Everywhere he looked, color assaulted his vision, rainbow flags snapping in the summer breeze, glitter catching sunlight, painted faces grinning from every direction.
Curly glanced over at him, fighting a smile. "Because Daisuke would've sulked for weeks if you skipped."
"That doesn't mean I had to come."
"You didn't have to hold onto me like a scared kid either." Curly's voice carried a note of amusement. He made no move to pull away, though. Losing Jimmy in this crowd would be a nightmare. Besides, he couldn't deny he was a little pleased Jimmy had chosen him as his anchor.
Jimmy's scowl deepened. "I'm not holding on." His knuckles, white against the navy fabric of Curly's shirt, told a different story.
The parade stretched ahead of them, floats crawling down the boulevard in a river of color. Dancers covered in sequins and feathers waved from elevated platforms while speakers blasted competing pop songs and electronic beats. The noise blended into one endless wall of sound designed to get people moving.
Jimmy thought it sounded like a migraine.
Swansea had vanished into the crowd twenty minutes ago after spotting a snow cone stand. Somehow the old man had managed to disappear despite spending the entire walk over complaining about his knees.
Anya stood closer to the barricades, phone raised as she recorded a troupe of drag queens strutting past. Flowers matching the colors of the lesbian flag were braided through her long dark hair, carefully woven there earlier by Daisuke with Swansea's surprisingly patient assistance.
Daisuke himself was impossible to miss.
His expensive pansexual flag was draped around his shoulders like a royal cape, the fabric practically glowing in the sunlight. He greeted strangers with the enthusiasm of someone attending a family reunion instead of a parade, waving, laughing, and accepting compliments from people he'd never met before.
Jimmy had mocked him relentlessly when he'd brought the thing.
A pride flag should not cost more than a decent television.
Then again, Daisuke came from the kind of family where money seemed less like a resource and more like a decorative suggestion. If he wanted a luxury designer pride flag, who was Jimmy to stop him?
A roar erupted from somewhere ahead.
Jimmy flinched.
A shower of rainbow confetti exploded into the air, drifting over the crowd like brightly colored snow.
"This is overwhelming," Jimmy said, rooted to Curly's side.
"Too much?” Curly leaned down to hear him better. His breath ghosted warm against Jimmy's ear.
Jimmy watched another wave of people stream past. A woman wrapped in a bisexual flag laughed as her girlfriend spun her in a circle. Nearby, two older men walked hand in hand, matching wedding bands flashing in the sunlight.
"I don't..." Jimmy hesitated. "How do people do this?"
"Do what?"
"Just..." He gestured vaguely at everything around them. The crowd, flags, couples holding hands without a second thought. "Be out here. Like this."
Curly followed his gaze.
At the men kissing atop a float. At the teenagers taking pictures beneath banners covered in glitter and paint. Nobody looked nervous. Nobody looked afraid.
Curly watched him for a moment. His expression softened, though the edge of a smirk remained. "You've never been to Pride before."
"Obviously not."
"Never been open about yourself either."
Jimmy's mouth pressed into a thin line. His gaze dropped to the pavement, littered with glitter and discarded bead necklaces. Someone had dropped a tiny rainbow pin near the curb. It caught the sunlight every time people walked past it.
"No," he admitted quietly.
"I'm glad you accepted Daisuke's invite." Curly shifted, angling his body to shield Jimmy from a group pushing through the crowd. The movement brought them closer, chest to chest. Curly's hands settled on Jimmy's upper arms.
Jimmy looked up. Curly's blue eyes held steady on his face. The noise of the parade faded into background static, muffled beneath the thundering of Jimmy's pulse.
"I came because you were coming," Jimmy admitted. For a second he considered taking them back. Pretending he meant something else.
But Curly's smile only widened. "I'm glad you're here." His thumbs traced absent circles against Jimmy's biceps.
Jimmy hated how aware he was of every point of contact. The warmth of Curly's hands. The sunlight catching strands of blond hair. The way Curly looked at him like he was worth paying attention to.
Jimmy swallowed.
The crowd cheered as another float passed, but it sounded distant.
"Come on," Curly said finally, releasing him. "There's a quieter spot near the fountain."
Jimmy followed without protest.
The fountain sat at the edge of the park, a stone centerpiece surrounded by benches and scattered trees. The crowd thinned here, the noise fading into a dull hum. Music still drifted from the main avenue, but it no longer rattled Jimmy's bones.
Water arced through the air, scattering rainbows wherever the sunlight struck.
Jimmy sank onto a bench and exhaled. His shoulders dropped from their tense position near his ears. "I hate crowds."
Curly sat beside him, close enough that their thighs touched. "Hey," Curly said. "You're not alone here."
Jimmy stared at the fountain.
"You got us."
His throat tightened unexpectedly. "Sure," Jimmy said.
Curly glanced sideways at him. "Don't you trust me?"
The words landed heavier than they should have. Jimmy watched the water ripple and splash against the stone basin.
"You make it hard not to."
For a second, Curly simply stared at him.
Then he laughed.
Warm enough to settle something restless inside Jimmy's chest.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Jimmy rolled his eyes. But he didn't move away when Curly's shoulder bumped his.
A group of teenagers passed by, laughing and draped in flags. One of them whooped at something on their phone, the sound bright and carefree.
Jimmy watched them go. Something tight in his chest loosened. "I've never had this," he said quietly. "People who... knew. And didn't care."
Curly's expression softened. "You have it now." His hand found Jimmy's on the bench. "I'll always be here."
Jimmy stared at their intertwined fingers.
Curly's hand was warm. Familiar. The same hand that had shoved him out of the way of traffic once, dragged him into movie nights he claimed he didn't want to attend, and stolen fries from his plate whenever he wasn't looking.
Jimmy had spent years pretending he wasn't constantly aware of it.
Curly's grip tightened slightly. "I've wanted to tell you something."
The shift in his voice made Jimmy glance up. Gone was the teasing edge that seemed permanently attached to Curly's smile. This sounded different. Serious. Almost nervous.
Jimmy's stomach dropped. "What?"
Curly held his stare.
The noise of the celebration faded into the background. The fountain splashed quietly nearby. A breeze stirred the leaves overhead. For a moment, Curly looked like he was trying to talk himself out of it.
Then he exhaled. "I didn't bring you here just because Daisuke asked."
Jimmy frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I wanted you here." Curly swallowed. "With me."
Jimmy's pulse jumped.
"Because I've spent too long pretending I don't—" He stopped. His jaw tightened.
Jimmy had never seen him look uncertain before.
Curly always seemed to know exactly what to say. Exactly what to do. Seeing him hesitate was somehow more terrifying than anything else.
"Curly..." Jimmy's heart was pounding now. "Just tell me."
Curly looked directly into his eyes. And Jimmy suddenly couldn't look away.
"I'm in love with you."
"I've been in love with you for years."
Jimmy forgot how to breathe.
"I know you're uncomfortable here," Curly continued quietly. "I know you're still figuring things out. And maybe this is terrible timing."
His thumb brushed over Jimmy's knuckles. "But I'm done pretending."
Jimmy stared at him with deep brown eyes.
Curly's eyes were impossibly blue in the light. "I'm done acting like I don't think about you all the time."
Jimmy's chest hurt.
"I'm done acting like I don't want to hold your hand." Curly squeezed his fingers. "Like I don't want to kiss you every time you open your mouth to complain about something."
Despite everything, a startled laugh escaped Jimmy.
Curly smiled.
The sight nearly broke him. Nobody had ever looked at him like that. Like he was something worth wanting.
"Say something," Curly murmured.
Jimmy opened his mouth. Nothing came out. A thousand thoughts crashed together inside his head. "I don't..." His voice cracked.
He swallowed. "I don't know what to say."
Curly's expression softened further. His free hand rose slowly, giving Jimmy every opportunity to pull away. Curly's palm settled against his jaw. Tilting his face upward. "Can I kiss you?"
Jimmy's heart hammered against his ribs. The world narrowed to the space between them. Jimmy's gaze dropped briefly to Curly's mouth. Then lifted again.
His answer came without words. He leaned forward and closed the distance.
Curly met him halfway.
The kiss started like neither of them quite believed it was real.
Curly's lips moved against Jimmy's with careful patience, giving him every chance to change his mind.
Jimmy did the opposite.
His hand fisted in the front of Curly's shirt as he leaned closer, anchoring himself to the moment before it could disappear.
The scratch of Curly's stubble warmed his skin.
Mint lingered on Curly's breath from the gum he'd been chewing earlier, mixed with the sweetness of the soda Jimmy practically inhaled during the parade. Curly's thumb brushed against his jaw.
When they finally pulled apart, Jimmy's lungs burned. He drew in a shaky breath. Their foreheads rested together. Neither of them moved away.
Jimmy kept his eyes closed. "That was—"
"Long overdue," Curly interrupted.
Jimmy let out a breathless laugh. "I was going to say terrifying."
"Should I apologize?" Curly asked.
A reluctant smile tugged at Jimmy's mouth and he opened his eyes. Curly was looking at him with enough affection to make Jimmy's chest ache. He suddenly understood just how nervous Curly must have been. How long he'd carried this. How much of a risk he'd taken.
"Idiot," Jimmy whispered.
Curly's smile widened.
"...don't ever."
The fountain splashed quietly behind them. Somewhere nearby, people cheered as another float rolled past. The celebration continued without them.
The entire street seemed alive with music and laughter.
Curly's hand slipped into Jimmy's hair like Jimmy was something precious.
Then kissed him again.
The second kiss felt easier. Jimmy melted into it before he could stop himself.
When they finally separated, he stayed close enough that their noses brushed.
"I think," Jimmy murmured, "I might actually enjoy Pride this year."
Curly's laughter vibrated between them. "I think you might."
For the first time all day, Jimmy looked back toward the parade, toward the crowds and the flags waving in the afternoon sun.
And for once, none of it felt overwhelming.
Because when Curly reached for his hand, Jimmy took it without hesitation.
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