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Nick had been nervous to attend his first Pride. While he’d been out as bisexual to his close friends and family for years, he’d only publicly come out a few months prior. And even though he’d had many passing attractions towards other men, he’d yet to find the courage to actually do something about it.
Tara and Darcy had invited him to go to Pride with them every year since they’d all moved in together after university, but he’d always declined, the Imposter Syndrome taking over.
“I’m not out,” He’d always say.
Tara or Darcy would usually respond with something along the lines of: “So? Closeted people are definitely welcome at Pride.”
And he knew that, he did. He’d never judge anyone else who went to Pride while still in the closet, but something about that person being him made him feel differently. Why should he get to go to an event celebrating queerness when he couldn’t bring himself to come out?
After he’d unloaded all of those feelings to his mother on one of their weekly phone calls, she’d gently recommended he find a therapist, one who specialised in LGBTQ+ identities, to truly unpack all of it. Despite his initial apprehension, the sessions with Gia had proven to be eye-opening and healing.
Ten months after he began to see her, he found himself decorating his classroom with small rainbow items and letting himself look while out at gay clubs with Tara and Darcy. Before long, he had come out officially, posting a bi flag on his instagram, captioning it with a shrugging emoji.
So now he was out to the world, and Kent Pride was scheduled for the next day, Nick having registered to walk in the parade with Tara and Darcy. He could barely sleep, anxiety and excitement warring within him, keeping him up. Thankfully, there was only so much catastrophising he could do before he became too physically tired to stay awake, and he drifted off around two in the morning, the excitement and anxiety still warring in his dreams.
🍂🏳️🌈🍂
Nick’s bi flag cape was whipping behind him in the breeze. He felt silly wearing it at first, but many others had Pride flag capes, and he liked having a large and visible way to show he belonged.
I would belong regardless, he tried to tell himself, remembering all the work he’d done with Gia.
But the flag cape still made him feel a bit like a superhero and let everyone know how he identified. He liked not having to come out all day. The pink, purple, and blue felt like armour, a shield from his own insecurities.
Darcy had signed them up for the parade and, while individuals were allowed to march, she insisted they register as NTD, Ltd. No one had bothered to fact check the nonexistent company, so now they were lined up next to a small stanchion with a printer paper sign indicating NTD’s spot in line. Darcy had even made them shirts with the “company” name in their respective Pride colours. Or, more accurately, she’d frantically drawn on white tshirts with fabric markers the night before.
Regardless, Nick wore his shirt happily, so glad to have his best friends beside him, fully welcoming him into this space he had avoided for so long. He liked belonging somewhere, being in on this joke, being included in these shenanigans. He’d even let Darcy cut the sleeves off of his shirt so it was now a wide-armed vest top.
“It’s a crime to hide any inch of those arms, especially when you’re open to all genders ogling them,” She’d said as she sloppily cut the shirt the night before. Nick had to move her cup of wine, her elbow dangerously close to tipping it over onto the rug.
“I’m not sure I’m open to being ogled at all,” he’d muttered distractedly.
She turned to him and gave him a onceover. “Too late, Nicky boy. You look like that.”
He’d blushed and stuttered his way out of the conversation, not sure how to respond to the compliment (?).
Truth he told, he kind of liked the idea of being checked out by other queer people. He liked that a man or an enby might look at him and like what they saw. He liked that he could now look back and fully acknowledge that maybe he also liked what he saw.
And as expected, Nick’s vest paired with his large frame was garnering him a lot of attention. A group of drag queens had cheered for him when he walked by, and he’d laughed and waved, genuinely flattered and giddy. He’d noticed people looking at him, taking in his flag and smiling his way. Nerves still coursed through him, but he felt that small bit more comfortable, like he’d been given some kind of approval.
The parade began, a Lady Gaga song pumping through speakers set up along the street, and Nick found it easy to dance along with everyone. Normally, he’d feel self-conscious, but Darcy was dancing completely off-beat and erratically, and everyone around them seemed to love it. If Darcy’s earnest but awful moves could be appreciated, Nick had little to worry about.
A few minutes later, as George Michael sang about being free, Nick noticed a group of friends slightly ahead of them. They were singing along loudly and gleefully, flags waving as they twirled around.
One girl, tall and graceful, was wearing a trans flag cape and spinning a shorter boy under her arm. Despite the warm June weather, the boy had on a rainbow beanie. Beside them was a couple, a boy waving an Achillian flag holding hands with someone clutching non-binary and demisexual flags. A girl stood next to them, two bisexual flags poking out of her bunches. Off to the side, another boy was watching them, a book clutched in his hand with an asexual flag painted on one cheek and an aromatic flag on the other.
And there, dancing next to the first couple, was the most beautiful person Nick had ever seen. He had dark curls bouncing on his head, framing eyes that, even from just a glance, Nick could tell were the most brilliant blue. As he laughed, adorable dimples adorned his cheeks, and Nick had to actively hold back a sigh. And the boy was tall, probably almost as tall as Nick, with olive skin and a lithe frame. Nick couldn’t look away.
“Let me guess: tall, dark, and dimples?” Darcy maintained her arm dance moves as she fell into step next to Nick.
Nick blew out a breath. “Am I that obvious?”
“Nah, you just have a type.” Darcy turned to Tara, who was making good use of her dance skills as she spun and leapt off to the side. “Hey, babe!”
Tara took a few graceful jumps and landed next to Nick and Darcy. “Hm?”
Darcy pointed towards the group. “Who amongst that group has Nick’s attention?”
“Did you just say ‘amongst?’” Nick scoffed.
“Shush!” She smacked his arm.
“Oh, curls and dimples.” Nick threw his hands up at Tara’s answer.
“I do not have a type!”
“Yes, you do,” They answered in unison.
The parade continued, Tara and Darcy making fun of Nick anytime his eyes even started to shift towards the group ahead of them. He had the knee-jerk reaction to be ashamed, to apologise for being so publicly queer, but pushed that down, gripping the edge of his flag cape. Pulling it tighter to himself, he tried to blend in with the colours, let them take away any leftover fear. There was a beautiful man in front of him, and he was going to look.
The rest of the parade passed in a blur of music and glitter and joy. Nick kept stealing glances ahead of them, making sure the beautiful man wasn’t too far from his sight at any time.
But he also got to dance with his best friends and high five other queer people who they passed and be fully himself for maybe the first time ever.
They reached the end of the parade route just as MUNA and Phoebe Bridgers finished singing about silk chiffon. Darcy slung her arms around Nick and Tara’s shoulders, straining to reach up and around Nick.
“A successful pride parade for NTD, Ltd!” She abruptly lifted her feet off the ground, causing Nick and Tara to have to hurry to hold her upright as she kicked her feet.
“How are you like this? You haven’t had any alcohol or caffeine.” Tara’s voice was laced with exasperated affection.
“Yup, none of that for me!”
Nick fully took on Darcy’s weight, giving Tara a break. “She slammed down an energy drink when you went to the loo.”
Darcy yelled: “Nick!” at the same time Tara yelled: “Darcy!”
Just as Nick was about to defend himself from Darcy, who was now aiming her kicks at his shins, he saw the beautiful man only a few meters in front of him. All he could do was stare, amazed that he looked even better up close.
When Nick gave no reaction to her assault, Darcy turned her attention to the man as well. “You should talk to him.”
Nick scoffed. “Yeah, okay.”
“Why not?”
“Um, because I have no chance with a guy like that.”
“Do you not own any mirrors?” He could practically hear the eye roll just from Tara’s voice.
“A guy like that probably wants someone pretty and edgy. Like him. Not some jock who peaked in secondary.”
“First of all, that’s my best friend you’re being mean to, so stop.” Nick smiled despite himself. “And second of all, even if you’re somehow not his type physically, you’re one of the best people I know. Charisma and personality do a lot.”
“That’s how I bagged Tara.” Darcy smirked. “Well, that, and I’m smoking hot.”
“Go talk to him. The worst that could happen is he’s not interested. And the best that could happen is that he is.” Tara helped Nick guide Darcy back to the ground. “I think the best case in all of this is worth the risk.”
Nick took in her words, imagining a world in which that best case scenario actually happened.
Yeah.
Yeah, that was worth it.
He shook out his hands and rolled his neck, hoping that psyching himself up to talk to a hot guy wasn’t all that different from preparing for a rugby game. With one deep breath, he made his way forward, soft cheers from Tara and Darcy egging him on.
The man wasn’t that far away, but it felt like an eternity just getting to him. Every step made him want to turn back to comfortable safety, but he pushed ahead.
Just as he got within earshot of the man, he heard a sneering voice. “Oh my god, Charlie Spring? Still gay, I see.”
“You’re at pride too.” The man’s voice was small, timid, scared. Nick felt his hackles raising.
The group of boys, four of them, all around Nick’s age, snickered obnoxiously. “We only came to see all you weirdos being freaks.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“What’s the matter? None of your weird friends here to defend you?” At that, Nick did notice that the man’s friends seemed to have dispersed, maybe off to the loo or to get water or food. Regardless, they were gone, and the man — Charlie — was alone.
“No, I—“
“God, you’re still such a sissy.” The ring leader turned to his lackeys, a smug smile on his face. “Remember how he couldn’t even do one push-up in PE? Such a girl.”
“What’s wrong with being a girl?” Nick hadn’t even noticed himself walking up to the group, but he had somehow positioned himself in between Charlie and his harassers, making sure to stand at his full height and puff out his chest. He knew he could be intimidating when necessary.
The main boy scoffed. “Mate, this doesn’t concern you.”
Nick sneered. “I’m not your mate.”
He wasn’t deterred. “Look, Charlie here’s just always been a stereotypical gay kid. All weak and shit.”
“Do I look weak?”
“This isn’t about you, mate.” He had the wherewithal to at least look a bit scared.
“Not your mate. And there’s no such thing as one way to be gay.”
“Whatever, mate. Just drop it.” The ringleader began to back away, his posse losing much of their bravado.
“Not your mate.” Nick gave him a small once over. “If you wanna prove you’re such a tough guy, prove it. Let’s do pushups. When I win, you have to leave him, and everyone else here, alone.”
“And if I win?”
“You won’t.” Nick was confident in that, but he understood he still needed to sweeten the pot. “But if you somehow do, I’ll give you £50.”
A beat passed and then: “deal.”
Before Nick got into position, he turned to face Charlie, immediately becoming awestruck at being so close to him.
“Um. You don’t have to do this.” Charlie smiled shyly, eyes wide and roving over Nick’s face.
Nick shrugged. “What’s the point of all these muscles if I can’t show up some homophobes at pride?”
Charlie bit his lip, pushing down a smile. “I’m Charlie, by the way.”
“Nick.”
They gazed at each other for a moment, and Nick wished it could just be this: the two of them in peace, the bigotry of the wide world a faraway thought.
“We doing this or what?” The obnoxious question broke Nick from his reverie. He rolled his eyes and made to turn back around.
“Wait, Nick.” Charlie’s soft whisper made him pause and turn back. Charlie reached up and tenderly untied his flag cape, soft fingers barely brushing against his neck. He gently pulled the flag from Nick’s shoulders, eliciting a shaky breath from him as Charlie’s hands slowly retreated. “I’ll keep this safe for you.”
Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thank you.”
After stretching out a bit, he got into the correct position, thankful today was supposed to be arm day anyway. He probably would win regardless, but at least he wasn’t in danger of injuring himself.
“Go!” One of the lackeys yelled, startling Nick.
He recovered quickly and began setting a steady pace, a welcome burn starting in his muscles. While he kept his attention on his own form and progress, he was aware of the cheering around them, a small crowd having formed. A whistle that could only come from Darcy sounded above the noise, bringing a smile to Nick’s face.
No one seemed to be keeping count of both men’s progress, so Nick assumed it was just whoever outlasted the other. Fine by him, he’d built up a lot of stamina from his years of rugby. He could hear the laboured breathing across from him and knew it wouldn’t be much longer.
As soon as he’d completed his sixty-seventh push-up, the crowd erupted into noise, mostly cheers but some grumbles of disappointment. Nick glanced across the way to find his opponent collapsed on his back, red-faced and breathing heavily. Chuckling to himself, Nick evened his count to seventy before stopping, the only evidence of his own workout slightly deeper breaths and lightly flushed cheeks. A small sheen of sweat had formed on his face, but he must have looked largely unbothered by the physical activity.
Adrenaline was coursing through him, the combination of the exercise and the immense pride flowing through him making him feel invincible. He turned to face his cheer squad, spotting Tara, Darcy, and Charlie’s friends among them. But he found himself zeroing in on Charlie, his face red and eyes shining, dimples on prominent display thanks to his massive grin.
Before Nick could even really think about it, he walked up close to Charlie and wrapped an arm around his waist. Charlie settled his hands on Nick’s shoulders, almost on instinct. That small touch was all Nick needed, and he leaned down just a bit to kiss Charlie.
As soon as their lips met, Nick felt like he could fly or walk on water or any other impossible feat. After all, how could anything be impossible when he felt this right. Charlie’s arms fully wrapped around Nick’s neck, bringing him even closer, deepening the kiss and causing stars to burst behind Nick’s eyelids.
Maybe it was a second, maybe it was a lifetime, but eventually, Nick pulled back, resting his forehead on Charlie’s, eyes closed as he caught his breath. The seventy push-ups felt like nothing compared to that kiss.
A shallow scoff sounded behind them, causing Nick to glance behind himself, catching his opponent just now beginning to stand.
“You cheated or something. No gay could do that.” While his words were venomous, his voice was thin, punctuated by shaky breaths.
“What can I say, we gays contain multitudes. I believe that means you have to leave Charlie alone now.”
“Whatever, he’s just a fa—“
“Alright, off you go!” Darcy launched forward, pushing him away with a surprising amount of strength, quickly joined by Tara and Charlie’s friends.
“Um, thank you.” Charlie’s small voice brought Nick’s gaze back to him. He looked suddenly shy, as though Nick was going to somehow decide this was all some big mistake and run off, never to be seen again.
Nick brought his other arm to encircle Charlie’s waist as well, keeping him steady in his arms. “I was nervous to come today. I’ve only recently become comfortable being publicly out and still have to tell myself I belong. Even a month ago, guys like that would have made me retreat back into some den of internalised biphobia. But all I could think about was wanting you to not feel that way.”
Charlie pulled his arms apart slightly, re-tying Nick’s flag around his neck. “My very own bisexual superhero.”
Nick beamed. “You know, I feel like a personal superhero might be good to keep around.”
Shrugging playfully, Charlie tightened the knot. “Yeah, I guess so. You asking me out?”
Nick thought back to who he was a year ago, wishing he could tell himself that his identity wouldn’t always be scary. He wished he could let himself know that healing was imminent and acceptance would grow from that. He wished he could tell himself about the beautiful boy currently in his arms.
“Definitely.”