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Keith stood on the sidewalk that ran parallel to the empty road before him. Beside him, everyone was rainbows and smiles and loud voices, all lined up on the concrete slabs, waiting. Both sides of the street were crowded with people, their clothes bright, face paint on displaying the flags of their sexualities proudly. 

That was the theme in the crowd- Pride. Because that's what it was- New York City's Pride Parade, where people from all over the country, maybe even the world, gathered to proudly display who they truly were with no shame and no fear. 

It was wild, amazing, so incredibly supportive, confetti and glittering smiles everywhere Keith looked. He was shy- this wasn't really his scene, but Shiro and Adam had wanted to go and since Keith had semi-come out that year (only to close family and friends), they'd convinced him to come too. He'd declined walking in the parade with them, though, promising to take pictures on the sidelines instead. 

He'd heard stories of Pride before from Adam or his other LGBTQ friends, but he'd never gone to one. He'd only recently come to terms with his own sexuality himself, so he hadn't even wanted to go before Shiro had suggested it. 

Keith had actually tried to tone down his outfit to avoid attention, but, after a few hours wandering through the stalls and sellers who set up camp for waiting Parade attendees, he'd been... transformed into someone he didn't recognize but liked and admired. 

A gay pride flag tied around his shoulders like a cape, a rainbow painted on his cheek, glitter on his arms and shoulders, thigh-high rainbow socks that Shiro had made him buy... and he felt more proud than when he was just wearing his muscle shirt and ripped jeans. He felt like he belonged here, among these beautiful, enchanting people, who proudly displayed who they were with Pride. 

Everything about the environment was accepting and supportive. Boys had shot playful fingers at Keith when they had matching flags as capes, a kind mother whose shirt said "FREE HUGS because some kids don't have families who will", referencing how some people at Pride had families who they'd go home to who wouldn't accept them, and Drag Queens with dazzlingly white smiles who called him 'honey' when Shiro asked to get a picture of the family with them, the family being Keith, Shiro, and Adam. 

It was like a different world. Keith immediately liked it, but he felt vulnerable too, for some strange reason, insecure as the world looked at him and labeled his preference. But boys who kissed boys and girls who kissed girls and people who kissed both and neither and every gender identity on the infinite spectrum were expanding from the community, growing louder and more proud and more widespread than ever. 

The thrum of excitement that flowed through the crowd suddenly swelled and someone shouted over the clamor of voices. "IT'S STARTING!" A burst of cheers and applause rippled through the crowd as the message distributed. Keith inched forward, claiming his spot right in the front of the sidewalk, just on the edge. 

The spectators heard the parade before they saw it. The rev of motorcycles. The thrumming beat of the drums, the muffled echoes of the chants starting up. Excited tension became taught and the crowd got considerably quiet. A beat, a momentary pause. 

Then, with a victorious yell, someone shouted, "HAPPY MOTHERFUCKING PRIDE, NEW YORK!" 

And the Parade started, motorcycles first, then vintage cars and policemen, floats that held city officials and other famous icons, followed by the first band, then Sage USA, a river of elderly citizens whose smiles were young and victorious as they waved their flags, hand-in-hand with lovers. The list went on and on, organization after organization, group after group. The whole thing had Keith's heart beating happily- you couldn't get bored at a Parade like this. 

Then, a break in between to advocacy groups, a swarm of independent Paraders, waving happily at the crowd. Keith spotted Shiro and Adam walking and yelled out to them, holding his hand up as he took pictures. 

Shiro had dyed the white shock of hair that curled over his forehead in a rainbow and he wore a rainbow crop top and bright pink biker shorts, while Adam wore rainbow sunglasses, several sparkly feather boas, and rainbows painted on his thighs. They were the epitome of gay dads. Keith figured they were probably having a contest to see who could come up with a better gay dad joke.

"Having a gay husband must be a pain in the ass."

"Go ask your mom."

Keith took a few pictures as Shiro and Adam walked by, but before he took his camera away from his face, someone else came into view. A teen Keith's age, smiling widely, wearing a cropped baseball tee and short shorts, pink, purple, and blue glitter making shimmering flags on his cheeks. The boy turned to the left and made eye contact with him through the camera. 

Keith slowly lowered the camera from his face, his eyes wide and glued to the teen. The brunette beauty stopped walking, his face holding the same expression and, after a moment, he broke away from the group he was walking with and jogged over to Keith. 

Keith noticed that the pink, purple, and blue flag on his cheeks was also tied around the boy's shoulders. He's bi. He's pretty. Oh, god, he's pretty. 

"Hey," the boy said happily as he approached Keith. He was a little out of breath from walking and jumping around in the Parade, his cheeks slightly flushed. "The name's Lance McClain."

Keith swallowed but it did nothing for his dry throat. He reached out and shook Lance's hand, but their palms stayed touching longer than necessary. The boy's hand was soft and his grip was gentle and Keith felt electrocuted by the touch. 

Lance glanced over his shoulder at Shiro and Adam. "Those your Dads?"

"Sort of."

"They're a blast. Wanna come march with us?"

"Oh, no, I shouldn't..."

"You should, you mean. Come on, let's go- they'll leave us behind," Lance said happily, still holding onto Keith's hand and dragging him from the safety of the crowd playfully. Keith looked at his spot at the sidewalk reluctantly, then shook his head, smiled softly at Lance, and followed him into the stream of people walking on the street. 

The two teens caught up with Shiro and Adam, who were (understandably) surprised at Keith's willingness to join the parade, then saw that Lance was still holding Keith's hand and they looked at each other knowingly. Keith wondered if the brunette was still holding on on accident or if he actually liked the way their palms fit together, just like Keith felt.  

Here, walking down the strip of the street, both sides of the sidewalk cheering and applauding as they walked, it was louder but better. It was one thing to watch the parade, it was another to embrace it and join in. Keith had assumed that he'd feel uncomfortable with all the eyes on him, but he found himself surprisingly comfortable in the midst of the crowd. 

Lance still didn't let go of his hand and, boldly, Keith rearranged their hands to interlace their fingers (it was more comfortable). Lance shot him a sidelong glance that turned into a sunny smile at the sight of Keith's embarrassed blush, squeezing his hand gently. Keith squeezed back and continued to walk. 

On their way to 23rd street, Keith and Lance met a trio of Paraders their age: Matt, who was pansexual, Pidge, who was non-binary and a questioning asexual, and Hunk, who didn't like labels but was definitely an ally. Keith lost his anxiety a few blocks ago and was now just enjoying it, enjoying Lance's hand in his, enjoying Matt and Pidge's playful banter, enjoying the feeling of walking next to Shiro and Adam as a (slightly dysfunctional but loving and supportive) family. 

The day was gorgeous, the temperature perfect, the crowds loud and swelling with happiness and justice. They were all here for the same reason. They were an unstoppable group of pure force and victory, of all shapes and sizes and colors and identifications and more... yet all the same, united under the same sky. 

When the Parade ended in an explosion of confetti and cheers and laughter, the group of 7 decided to go to Central Park to hang out and talk, piling into a few taxis and taking the short taxi ride to the large park. 

They wandered down into a shady, grassy area, setting down all their bags and assorted Parade merch, laughing and sharing stories and just... kids bein' kids. While Shiro and Adam were starting a playful debate with Matt over pineapple's place on pizza, Keith tapped Lance on the shoulder and gestured to a more secluded section of the clearing. Lance nodded and the two slipped away from the now heated altercation, fueled by Adam's devilish grin as he continued to suggest pickles on pizza, cueing Matt to go into a full-on rage. 

The two boys walked away from the group and out of the shadows of the foliage, letting sunlight wash over them. 

"Ahhh, that feels nice," Lance said happily, stretching. His glitter shimmered in the afternoon sun and Keith looked at him in awe. He wanted to hold his hand but he didn't know if it was appropriate now. He didn't know where they stood, if he was just someone who'd caught Lance's eye and had been pulled along for his short ride of attention, or if (what he so badly wanted) the teen would propose something more serious. 

"Look, Lance-" Keith began, but then stopped abruptly. He squinted. 

Lance cocked his head to the side, confused. And then he felt it too. The two boys looked up at the sky. There were some grey clouds, sure, but the sun was still out. And then, it was all at once. Rain. 

Lance gasped, raindrops running down his cheeks like tiny kisses. "A sunshower!" he exclaimed happily, spinning out with his arms spread wide, the rain falling faster and faster, but not to heavy to drench the two. 

Keith stood in awe of the boy who twirled and whirled around him, almost dancing in the rain, a blissful smile on his face. 

"I love the rain," Lance told Keith matter-of-factly, stopping his spins to look at Keith head-on. The Bi flags on his cheeks were running into purple tears down his face and chin. 

"You look absolutely beautiful," Keith told him in the same tone, then immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. 

Lance's eyes widened slightly. He stepped forward, a blush spreading over his freckled cheeks that were semi-covered by the now water-color flags. "Do you mean that, Mullet?"

Keith refused to look at anything but the blue of Lance's eyes. They were brilliant. Like cornflowers and lapis lazuli, shot through with jagged sparks of amber and hazel. Framed by wet lashes and eyeliner that had begun to smudge around the edges. 

A sharp jaw. The fine lines of his cheekbones. An almost unnoticeably crooked nose that turned up at the end but only slightly. Ears that were ever-so-slightly pointed at the ends like a fairy's. Shaggy brown hair that seemed to be cut haphazardly. And freckles that fell like an explosion of confetti over the bridge of his nose and splashed over the apples of his cheeks. 

"You," Keith said, "are the prettiest boy I have ever seen. And there's more to you than just that, I know because I've seen how gorgeous your heart is too." Keith's flirting was bad and cliche and sappily romantic because he watched too many romance movies that he wouldn't admit to. But he was trying his best to relay it. 

Lance glanced up at the sky, the sun falling through the gaps in the clouds, the raindrops caressing the two boys with tiny whispers. "It's stupidly perfect, isn't it."

"What is?" 

Lance stepped into Keith's arms and wound his arms around Keith's waist, dipping down as he whispered, "This." And then he kissed him with a passion that started with a small spark that grew into a flame. Keith's hands rested on Lance's chest but they moved up to his jaw, the back of his neck, trying to press as close as he could to the teen. 

Trumpets didn't swell into fanfares and it didn't feel like how kisses looked in romcoms, but it was perfect in its own way and Keith felt like he'd rather suffocate than break away from Lance's lips. Thankfully, the brunette spared him that decision and pulled away, a little out of breath, his eyes shining. 

"Where have you been, hmm?" he murmured, leaning down to kiss Keith again. 

Keith whispered past Lance's lips, "Waiting for you."

The sunshower sparkled in the afternoon light and, above New York City, an ironic rainbow spread across the blue sky, showing that, no matter what, through any storm or trouble, love would prevail. Love was real and beautiful and should be celebrated. 

Love is love.