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You’d think Eddie would have mastered the art of getting dressed sometime in the last 34 years, but alas — he did in fact have an existential crisis in front of his wardrobe this morning.
Judge all you like, but the dress code for ‘first Pride as an allegedly-straight-but-not-actually-straight-but-he-doesn’t-know-what-he-is man,’ is harder to pin down than you’d think.
He got as far as ‘this doesn’t really feel like a jeans and a t-shirt event,’ and then just kind of stood in the one spot for half an hour until they had to leave.
In a last-minute decision, he’d landed on shorts and a t-shirt, because it’s hot, and he’d decided he was going to work up to the rainbows. Pace himself. Start with getting out of the car, and gradually build up to the rainbows.
Unfortunately for Eddie, who is currently feeling very sensitive about rainbows, Theo fucking loves them. Rainbow is his favorite color, hence June is his favorite month, hence no one has ever been as excited to go anywhere as Theo is to go to the rainbow parade.
He exits his bedroom, sees Theo’s rainbow socks, and does not flee. He is definitely on the verge of fleeing, for sure, but he doesn’t.
He doesn’t even flee when they finally find a parking spot right beneath a giant rainbow banner, though he probably would if it didn’t mean sacrificing the spot it took them an hour to find.
“Chris!” Theo gasps, getting his first glimpse of rainbows from his car seat. “It’s rainbows!”
“Whoa!” Buck gasps, taking the opportunity while Theo is trapped in the car seat to slather him with sunscreen. “How many rainbows can you see?”
Eddie grabs Christopher’s wheelchair from the trunk and focuses on not fleeing. There are so many rainbows. There are way too many rainbows for a four-year-old to count, and that’s so many rainbows.
He sets the wheelchair on the ground, its rainbow flag cape taunting him as it catches the wind.
“Does it look okay?” Christopher asks, settling into the wheelchair. “I don’t want it to fly away.”
“No, it’s - - it’s good,” Eddie manages. “Not going anywhere.”
Chris nods, pleased, and digs into his backpack. Because the universe is very funny, and they are, to be fair, at a Pride parade, he of course pulls out an armful of fucking rainbows on sticks. “Can I give him a flag, or will he lose an eyeball?” He asks, not having to specify who he is.
Buck pauses where he’s sunscreening the tips of Theo’s ears. “Uh,” he winces, and Eddie knows exactly what’s going through his mind — all the many various ways Theo can and will brandish a flag as a weapon. But it doesn’t matter. It’s too late. Theo has locked eyes with the flag.
He gasps, tiny little sticky hands reaching toward the plastic flag.
“What’s that?”
Buck lets his eyes fall closed in preemptive defeat. “That’s a flag,” he explains. “A Pride flag.”
“Rainbow,” Theo breathes.
“Yeah,” Buck sighs as a grinning Christopher hands Theo a pointy, rainbow weapon. “Rainbow.”
Something that Theo shares with Buck is the incredibly uncasual way they approach a new interest. For example, fifteen minutes ago, Theo did not know what a flag was. Now, his most prized possession on this earth is his Pride flag collection, which is growing at truly impressive and concerning speeds.
This is the situation, as it is rapidly unfolding:
- Theo is the most adorable child in the greater LA area, and he’s fucking hyped about flags, and, obviously, everyone in their vicinity is utterly smitten with him and delighted to give him their flags.
- All of the delighted, smitten Pride-goers are, obviously, under the assumption that the large-sized version of Theo decked out in the bi flag is his bi father, and that Eddie, who is pushing a medium-sized version of Theo around in a wheelchair, is his other gay dad.
- So many people are gushing, to his face, about how cute his little gay family is. They are just absolutely thrilled about how gay Eddie is, with his bisexual husband and aggressively proud, rainbow children.
- Eddie is not saying anything to convince anyone otherwise, which is not intentional; he really should say something, but there are just a lot of rainbows and a lot of people, and he kind of likes it, okay? He likes it. He likes people thinking he’s married to Buck. He likes people thinking he’s Not Straight. He likes people knowing he’s not straight. He likes that Theo is so fucking pumped about Pride flags, and that he’s allowed to be, and that no one is going to tell him he can’t be. He likes being here, at Pride, and feeling like he’s allowed to be. Eddie is not straight, and he’s allowed to be.
- Buck grins at him, brighter than a midday sun in the middle of June, and Eddie is so not straight. He’s so not straight. He’s still grinning back at Buck as someone tells him he has a beautiful family. He thanks them, and he means it.
“I have a rainbow one! And a blue and green one! And a pink, purple, and blue one! And a blue and pink on! And this one is pink and orange! And - -”
“That’s a lot of flags, Spider-Man,” Eddie chuckles.
“Yep! I got them all. I have so many. Buck only has one. Which one do you have?”
Theo is sitting on the ground surrounded by his new collection of Pride flags, laying them out like they’re something to behold. Behind them, Buck looks up from where he’s unpacking their picnic. Christopher is taking on the vital role of Person Who Stops The Picnic Rug From Flying Away In The Wind While Scrolling On Their Phone.
“I don’t have a flag,” Eddie says.
Theo frowns. “Oh,” he says, looking down at his overflowing collection. “Well. These are all mine, but there are lots! You can pick one like Buck! But - - none of these ones. These are mine. But you can get your own. We can have matching.”
Buck and Theo have been working on sharing. Theo isn’t a fan.
“Yeah?” Eddie smiles. “I guess I just - -” He’s feeling brave. Not brave enough to look at Buck, but brave enough to say, “I’m not sure which flag belongs to me right now.”
Theo hums, like Eddie didn’t just jump off a cliff. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Red.”
Theo scans his pile of flags one by one, running his tiny little hand over the colors of them. “Oh,” he frowns, disappointed. “There’s no red flag.”
Eddie snorts. “That’s okay. I have plenty of those already.”
Theo frowns, probably because he’s about to demand that Eddie give him one of his many red flags, but Buck is there, suddenly, closer, kneeling down in front of Theo.
“Hey, buddy, it’s nearly time for lunch, okay? Do you want me to help you put your flags back in your bag to keep them safe?”
Theo shakes his head, grabbing at his flags protectively. “I can do it,” he insists.
“Okay, thank you,” Buck smiles. “When you’re done, we’ll wash our hands and then eat our sandwiches. Sound good?”
Buck is so good at this. A natural in ways Eddie never was.
“What kind of sandwiches?” Theo asks, eyes narrowing.
“Rainbow sandwiches,” Buck whispers.
Theo’s jaw genuinely drops. He starts shoving flags into his bag at supersonic speeds.
Later, when hands are washed, sandwiches have been served, and the kids are playing some made-up game with the flags in the grass, Eddie is brave enough to look at Buck.
He’s chewing on the crusts of Theo’s sandwich, smiling dopily as Theo screeches in delight at something Chris says. He must feel Eddie’s eyes on him, because he turns and meets them.
He cocks his head, mop of curls almost glowing in the sunshine. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Happy Pride.”
Eddie’s heart races, his breath catching as the words hit. “Thank you,” he manages, an admission. “And happy Pride to you.”
Buck doesn’t falter.
“Thanks,” he smiles. He shifts from where he’s sitting and stretches back toward Eddie, leaning on his elbow. “Do you think Theo had a good first Pride?”
Eddie snorts. He’s pretty sure no one has ever had a better time doing anything.
Buck grins — his real, squinty-eyed grin — delighted that his joke landed.
He nudges Eddie’s foot with his own. “Did you have a good first Pride?”
“I did,” he confirms. “I didn’t know there were so many flags.”
Buck hums. “Honestly, me neither. But it’s nice. There’s a flag for everyone. Or fifty flags for Theo.”
Eddie snorts. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I guess so.”
Seeing the crowd, a sea of so many colored flags that they’d made their own rainbow, had felt like belonging and longing all at once.
He fits in here somewhere, he thinks. He’s some gradient shade of it all. But he doesn’t know where. He wouldn’t know where to start. The path from where he’s standing, in plain shorts and a t-shirt, to where everyone else is — adorned in colors and flags that are theirs — feels impossibly distant.
A shoe nudges his ankle. He ignores it. The shoe nudges his ankle again.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “It’s just a lot,” he goes with. “All the flags and the words and the labels. I don’t - - I don’t know.”
Buck still surprises him sometimes. Like right now, as he lets Eddie’s statement sit there, like it’s welcome here, lounging on the picnic rug with them.
He doesn’t lunge at it like Eddie thought he might. He’s more patient these days. More comfortable with all the in betweens.
It’s not rushed or hurried when he asks:
“Do you want a flag?”
Eddie shrugs. “I’m still getting used to wanting - - anything.”
“You don’t need a flag. Or the rainbow flag is, like, a broad flag. A non-committal flag.”
“And Theo’s favorite,” Eddie notes.
Buck smiles. “He does love a rainbow.”
Eddie stretches his foot out and nudges Buck’s.
Buck nudges back.
There are a lot of things lounging on this picnic rug beside them — quietly loud and achingly comfortable.
“It’s not a non-committal thing,” Eddie whispers, inviting the quietly loud thing to speak. Buck’s breath hitches. “I’m sure about - - what I’m sure about.” Eddie is allowed to be brave. No one is going to tell him he can’t be. “I’m sure about you.”
The sharp rush of Buck’s inhale is the only receipt he gets for what feels like hours. Patience is a virtue, and Buck is apparently, suddenly, agonizingly virtuous. He nudges Buck’s ankle with his foot, and it’s like he nudges his battery pack back into place.
Buck shifts, sitting up and spinning around to look at him. “Eddie,” he breathes.
“You can think about it,” Eddie cuts in. “You should think about it.”
“I don’t need to think about it.”
“I wasn’t joking about the red flags.”
“Yes, you were,” Buck disagrees. “And I like all your flags. I’d collect them all and carry them around in a bag all day. That’s how much I like them.”
“You should think about it.”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“Because all those people thought we were married?”
“I mean - - yeah. That and I’ve been in love with you forever.”
“Oh,” Eddie breathes. He needs to lie down. He needs to be flat.
He plonks onto his back and stares at the sky.
“Was that too much?”
“No. Maybe. No. It’s not. I just - - I almost fled the rainbows. Life comes at you fast.”
Buck snorts. He shifts again, lying down beside him. “You almost fled the rainbows?”
Eddie nods. “Weird day to have a sexuality crisis.”
“Oh my god,” Buck breathes. “Today??”
“Not only today. But - - mostly today.”
“We can pretend I didn’t say the other thing.”
Eddie shakes his head. “No.”
“Why are you sleeping?” A little voice demands. Eddie jumps, bringing a hand up to block the sun from his eyes, revealing Theo staring down at him like a tiny, terrifying Pride paralysis demon. “Is it your nap time? I don’t take a nap anymore because I’m four.”
“We’re not napping, we’re just lying down,” Buck explains. “Are you having fun with Chris?”
Theo sighs dramatically. “I always have fun with Chris. We’re looking at my flags.”
“Okay,” Buck smiles, doing his best. “What’s up?”
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“Wide awake, bud.”
With a sigh, Theo reveals a slightly worse-for-wear Pride flag on a wonky stick from behind his back. “I have lots of rainbow flags. We counted. So you can have this one. It’s broken, so I don’t really want it. But it’s still okay. It’s rainbow!”
Eddie bites down on a laugh. “Thanks, Theo. That’s so nice of you.”
“Great sharing, bud,” Buck agrees.
“All the rest are mine, okay?” Theo checks, eyeing the two of them like they’re coming for his flag collection.
“All yours,” Eddie confirms.
Theo nods, handing the flag to Eddie and sprinting away. That kid is really fast as fuck.
“Looks like a flag found you,” Buck smiles.
Eddie waves his broken rainbow flag as best a wonky flag can be waved. “Do I look like a natural?”
Buck grins. “You do.”
He looks at his wonky, broken, worse-for-wear flag and declares:
“This will be my flag for now. This one specifically.”
“The mystery stain really adds a nice touch. I’m jealous.”
“It’s one-of-a-kind. Very exclusive.”
“And bestowed upon you by the keeper of the flags. What an honor.”
“He might not be waving as well as the other flags, but he’s here, and he’s doing his best.”
Buck pouts. “Eddie.”
“Too much?”
“He’s waving so good. Don’t be mean to him.”
For the first time in his entire life, he doesn’t want to be.
“We do have a beautiful family,” Eddie whispers, letting his head loll toward Buck.
Buck is already looking back, already smiling, already opening his mouth to say:
“This is the best Pride I’ve ever had.”
“Theo is crying because we had a flag fight and he didn’t win,” Christopher explains from somewhere closer than he’d been, like someone had just asked him about the weather.
Buck sighs. “Do I want to know what a flag fight is?”
“Like a sword fight but with flags,” Chris shrugs, breaking into a new bag of chips.
Buck takes a deep breath. “And everyone still has all their eyeballs?”
Chris shoves a handful of chips into his mouth. “Yep. At least when I left him fifteen seconds ago.”
In the distance, Eddie can see Theo dramatically splayed out on the grass.
“Alright,” Buck breathes, groaning as he gets to his feet. “Two eyeballs is better than none. Or one,” he adds, mostly to himself as he heads for Theo.
Eddie raises an unimpressed brow at Chris.
“What? I wasn’t going to let him win. Life isn’t fair. Sometimes someone snaps your pansexual flag in an honourable joust.”
“No more jousting small children with sharp objects, please. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Chris shrugs, gesturing at Eddie’s flag. “Theo said you were looking for a flag.”
Eddie had wondered how this would go — how he’d do it. Thought about all the ways he’d fret about what words to use, when he should do it, if he should. What Chris would be wearing, where he would be sitting, how old he would be.
It turns out that Christopher is rosy-cheeked, slathered in sunscreen, and covered in chip dust when Eddie says:
“Yeah. I like this one. Has a mystery stain on it.”
“That’s cool,” Christopher says, like he means it. “All of the flags are cool.”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. It can’t be that easy. There’s no way that it's just as easy as that.
Chris looks at him. “And Buck is cool,” he adds.
Eddie laughs, wet. Of course it’s that easy. He has the best kid in the world. “I love you, buddy.”
“Love you. But I’m still not gonna let Theo win every time.”
“But sometimes?”
Chris sighs. “Sometimes.”
Slowly, one by one, as Theo brandishes flags as swords and waves them from perilous heights, his collection dwindles. He gets a little older, he finds new interests, flags are lost and broken and replaced with renewed vigour each June.
But one flag, Eddie’s first flag, stays carefully pressed between glass where it hangs on their living room wall.
Even broken, even wonky, even faded with time, Eddie’s flag is a Pride flag, and he likes it, and he’s proud.