Guy had been looking forward to the Pride event all year. Especially since it was the first year he’d been in a relationship during one. For him, Pride was like Halloween, Christmas, and his birthday all rolled into one.
So when the assholes who’d come down to the parade in order to hassle people started spewing insults at the drag queens and dykes on bikes, it pissed him off. Weren’t they allowed ONE day? One single day a year to be proud of being queer.
To celebrate instead of apologize or explain.
When the butch chick in leathers threw the first punch, Guy cheered her on. But his pleasure at seeing the asshole get what he deserved quickly dissolved in the face of the chaos. The voices around him grew louder and louder, the crowd surged and jostled together, then someone shoved the guy in front of him and Guy fell back against Matt. His boyfriend tried to steady him, but as Guy tried to step sideways to get away from the fracas, he slipped on something—maybe confetti or a flyer or something—and his ankle twisted.
He howled as a shooting pain shot up his right ankle and calf. He quickly lifted his foot, gripping Matt’s shoulder. His sun-warmed skin was hot and sweaty beneath the tank he wore.
“What’s wrong?” Matt shouted over the noise of the crowd.
“My ankle.” Guy hopped on one foot. “I twisted it somehow.”
“Let’s get out of this crowd.” Matt jerked his head to indicate the direction they’d come from. “The police are trying to get things under control, but it’s gotten pretty ugly.”
Guy glanced over and saw policemen grappling with the hecklers and a lot of pissed-off looking people decked in rainbow colors. “Good call.”
Matt slipped an arm around his waist and steadied Guy as he hobbled away from the throng of people lining the parade route. There was a guy standing on a bench taking photographs, but he hopped down to make space for Guy as they approached.
“You okay?” Matt knelt in front of him, gently lifting Guy’s foot into his lap. He gently rotated Guy’s foot, which made Guy wince.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he grumbled.
“No shooting pain?” Matt asked. He was a personal trainer and had taken some first aid classes.
“Nah, it’s sore but I don’t think I did any permanent damage,” Guy said.
“Want to head home?”
“Not really.”
“You should ice and elevate your ankle,” Matt said, his fingertips stroking the dark hairs on Guy’s calf and making him shiver.
“Yeah, probably.” Matt sighed. “Can you bring the car around? I don’t think I can make it to where we parked.”
“The streets are blocked off, I don’t think I could get very close.”
“Damn it.”
“I saw a first aid tent somewhere around here.” Matt looked around. “Maybe they have crutches. Or … I could carry you.”
Guy gaped at him. “The whole way?”
“Come on, I lift more than you weigh at the gym all the time.”
Guy smiled. “I guess we could give it a shot.”
Matt helped him stand, but rather than hoist Guy onto his back, he lifted him onto his hip. Knees hugging Matt’s midsection and his arms around Matt’s neck, Guy clung to him as he began to walk. They got a few weird looks at first, but Guy’s ankle had begun to throb with every step and halfway to the car he lay his head on Matt’s shoulder, trusting that Matt would take care of him. He took a deep breath and smiled.
Apparently knights in shining armor smelled of sunscreen, laundry detergent, and clean summer sweat.
I tossed around a few ideas for this flash before I finally settled on this one. Hope you enjoyed it!
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I look forward to seeing you next Monday!