Author's Note: Happy Pride month, guys! :)

June - "They'll let me take you to the Junior Prom"

Three hundred and sixty four. That's how many days had elapsed since Jack and Hamish had first met. Whilst they hadn't quite been dating for a full year (their first official date had taken place the week after they'd met), they were going to make the most of the eve of their anniversary, no least because it was also the day of the 2018 Rhode Island PrideFest and illuminated parade.

Their journey across the Crawford Street footbridge was flanked on both sides by towering banners, each a row of twelve which had been colour-coded to recreate the rainbow of the gay pride flag.

The last time Hamish had crossed this particular bridge, he'd been buzzing at the prospect of spending time at the festival, and getting to connect with the wider LGBT community. This year, he was practically beside himself (much to the bemusement of Astrid and George, who were a pace behind him) as he was getting to spend it with friends and his boyfriend.

Jack was by no means any less excited at going to festival and parade with a significant other at his side, though he was currently proving successful at maintaining a mostly cool and relaxed exterior. The day was already a change in routine for the white-haired man, as he normally would've been stationed with Anna at the stall for her dental practice. A certain Australian had swapped duties with him for the day, after having remarked:

"Alright, alight! I'll do it if it saves me from having to see you tongue wrestle your boyfriend or look at him all doe-eyed every five minutes."

Jack may or may not have made a not-so-subtle note of the fact that Bunny would get to spend the better part of the day with the woman that most definitely wasn't his crush. The blue-eyed man had made a speedy exit before the surly antipodean could remonstrate with him.

"Good weather this year." George noted. It was sunny, with the temperature just shy of the unpleasant mid-eighties. "Although I doubt the sun can compare to young Hamish's smile right about now."

Hamish let out a groan and gave the Scotsman an eye roll. "You made that joke last year."

"I believe it was something to do with renewable energy… But the best jokes are the ones you can tell again and again and again." The restaurateur smirked.

Jack smirked. "He's just showing how much he loves you."

"Yeah, at my expense."

"You do sorta bring it on yourself." Astrid chipped in. "You're so excited I think you're vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear."

Hamish gave his boyfriend a flat look. "See what I have to put up with?"

The blue-eyed man shrugged. "Hey, it could be worse."

Hamish conceded to that. "Yeah…"

"Plus, I think maybe they're just a little jealous that you're holding hands with a hot guy, and they aren't."

"Is that so, snowball?" George noted with a mock threatening tone. "Choose your words carefully; I can always ban you from the restaurant."

Jack's look shifted from George to Astrid, who simply cracked her knuckles with an enthusiastic smirk. He then returned his gaze to Hamish.

"Don't look at me, you got yourself into this." He laughed, and then kissed Jack on the cheek.

The entrance to the street festival was as hard to miss as it had been the year before, a rainbow-emblazoned marquee that greeted:

Welcome to Rhode Island Pride

They dropped their entry donations (a suggested $1) into the buckets held by the event volunteers, and paused long enough to get their hands stamped, before they headed inside, and started to take in what the PrideFest had to offer.

There was the familiar assortment of food and drink stalls, charitable organisations, merchandise sellers, vacation providers and fun activities to be found along the length of South Water Street. The crowds were already giving the festival a healthy buzz, which was added to by the music winding its way over from the performance stages.

The group had just finished their visit to the Rhode Island Comic Con stall when a familiar logo caught Jack's eye.

He nudged Hamish to get his attention, and pointed it out. Jack then turned to Astrid and George. "Seeing as you guys didn't get a chance to meet them last year, fancy a little introduction to a couple of friends?"

Astrid and George followed as Jack and Hamish led the way. The Berkians were brought to the stall set up for the Fisher Dental Practice, which was currently manned by an Asian woman with multi-coloured hair (and wearing a T-shirt that parodied the Nike logo and slogan with a floss pick), and a gruff-looking man with blue-greyish hair, wearing a tank top emblazoned with:

STRAIGHT BUT NOT NARROW

"Hey guys." Jack greeted, and the colourful woman broke into a broad smile.

"Jack! Hamish! How's your day going?"

"Great." Jack replied.

"Not bad, thanks."

"Anna, Bunny, I'd like you to meet some friends of Hamish's. George Bletch and Astrid Hofferson. Astrid, George, meet Anna Fisher and Edward 'Bunny' Aster."

"Hey." Astrid greeted as she shook hands.

"A pleasure." George smiled.

"Gotten tired of the peroxide ankle biter yet?" The Australian quipped.

"Not yet, but he has his moments." George chuckled.

"Seeing as you're here, can I interest you in some free samples?"

Hamish gave his boyfriend a quick look, and the other man gave him a discreet nod in return.

"Sure." The green-eyed man responded, and each member of the group was given a small pack of toothpaste and floss.

"How long have you two known Jack?" Astrid asked with interest.

"Too many years…" Aster droned.

Anna gave the man beside her an exasperated look of reprimand. "We've known Jack for about five years now."

"Though it sometimes feels like longer…"

"And it's always been a pleasure, hasn't it, Aster?"

The man behind the counter suddenly flinched, and shot an accusing glare at her. He quickly turned to face them. "Sure." He uttered without conviction.

"Aw, I love you too, Bunny." Jack smirked.

"Seeing as you know Jack so well, why don't you join us for dinner after the festival's packed up?" George suggested. "I'm sure you could tell us so many informative things about the lad."

Jack glanced towards the Scotsman, and Hamish swore he could see a hint of mild panic in his boyfriend's eyes. He chuckled, suspecting Jack was now suddenly regretting introducing his friends to his boyfriend's.

They'd bid a brief farewell to Anna and Aster, and moved on to take in the other sights and sounds that the festival had to offer. As the afternoon wore on, Hamish caught the attentions of George and Astrid:

"Jack and I are gonna disappear for a bit."

"We are?" Jack asked, this was news to him.

"Yep." Hamish smiled brightly.

Astrid shared a knowing look with Hamish, and then George. "See you guys in a bit, then." The blonde remarked. "Don't do anything you could get arrested for." She added with a playful look.

"And try not to get into any fights this time, understood! I can't always be ready to rescue you if you end up in distress!"

"We won't get in trouble, I promise." The freckled man responded.

"Trouble is his middle name." George remarked, pointing at Jack.

"I've got my eyes on you, Jackson 'Trouble' Overland." Astrid playfully fired back.

"I don't know… I think in maybe five minutes 'Hiccup' will be the only one with his eyes on me."

Hamish dragged his boyfriend away before the verbal sparring could get any further. He led him towards the entrance of the PrideFest, and on a short walk that took them across the river, and towards Downtown Providence. They didn't stop walking until they reached the corner of Pine and Dyer streets, where Hamish drew them to a leisurely halt.

"Know where we are?" Hamish asked cryptically.

Jack glanced around the street corner for a couple of moments, before recognition dawned on his face. "Huh, yeah." He pointed towards the sidewalk. "That's where I got knocked on my ass by that crusty protestor."

His boyfriend nodded. "Bingo. This is where we met." Hamish rummaged in the backpack he'd been carrying, and extracted a thermos, along with two plastic champagne glasses.

"Prepared for everything." Jack noted with amusement. "Is it coke? Fanta? Sprite?"

"Sparkling wine." Hamish responded quietly.

Jack's eyes widened. "What?"

Hamish glanced discreetly one way, and then the other. "A responsible adult may have decided to take a calculated risk, and slipped us a little something special for the occasion… Because Coke, Fanta and Sprite just wouldn't cut it."

"Was it Gobber? It was Gobber, wasn't it?"

Hamish shook his head, a dangerously playful smirk gracing his lips. "Think… 'Closer to home'."

Jack's face screwed up in thought. It suddenly flashed surprise. "Your Dad?!"

Hamish smiled knowingly in response as he handed a plastic glass to his boyfriend.

"Holy shit. I didn't know he had it in him."

"He did say something to the effect of 'I wouldn't trust Jack with this were he my son'…" The green-eyed man explained in imitation of Stoick Haddock's distinctive brogue. "'but I know I can trust you son, and I want you to have a good weekend with him'."

"I can't even be mad at him, I wouldn't trust me if I were my son."

Hamish winced. "That sentence was a grammatical nightmare."

Jack smirked and slung an arm across Hamish's shoulder in a half-hug. "I'm your grammatical nightmare." He countered, and clinked his glass of sparkling wine against Hamish's.

They sipped their covert drinks and passed the time by recalling that far-flung day. They'd found a mostly-comfortable perch on the edge of a brick planter. From there, they had an unobstructed view of their corner, their slice of Providence.

"I still can't believe your Dad did this for us… I kinda feel like someone drinking spiked punch at junior prom."

Hamish chuckled at the idea. "Speaking from experience?"

"Hey!" Jack protested. "That's not the kind of practical joke I go for. And for the record…" He continued. "I'm glad there aren't any protestors this time. I like nostalgia, but that's the kind I can live without."

"Word." Hamish agreed. "Though the bruising really brought out the blue in your eyes."

"I was barely hurt; I think the scratches from the road were worse than the hit from the sign. Still…" Jack mused wistfully. "I wish we could bump into that little girl and her moms again. I'd like to know how they're doing."

"Probably all the better from having met 'Jack, the homophobe slayer!'"

The two of them laughed loudly, and trailed off into breathy chuckles. Even the chuckles subsided after a while, and soon Jack was left quietly watching his boyfriend.

Hamish soon noticed, and gave him a quizzical smile. "What?"

Jack smiled, it was soft and affectionate. "I know the anniversary isn't officially until tomorrow… But Happy Anniversary." He held his plastic glass out.

"Happy Anniversary." Hamish smiled as he clinked his glass against his boyfriend's.

They'd taken their time to enjoy their drinks, and after Hamish had stowed the thermos and glasses away, he'd followed up the sparkling wine with some Zeppole, courtesy of Hofferson's Café in Berk.

"You're spoiling me, you know that?" Jack smirked, he wiped at a bit of cream that had fallen onto his blue tank top. Written across the garment was the declaration:

I'VE FOUND
MY DISNEY
PRINCE

Hamish gave it a careful once-over. The cream had left a slight stain, but it was nearly invisible unless you knew what to look for. In contrast to the man sat next to him, he'd chosen to wear a black T-shirt, featuring a bi flag-coloured progress bar and the pun.

LOADING MY BI-NARY CODING

"Yep. What are you going to do to stop me?" Hamish retorted.

"Dunno? Something like this?" Jack leant over and kissed him on the lips.

After a while, the auburn-haired man managed to quip: "Uh-oh, don't think Anna will thank you for giving me even more sugar."

Jack chuckled against Hamish's lips.

"You're the one who's all sweet and sappy."

"Hypocrite." Hamish smirked.

With some reluctance, the two boyfriends broke contact so that they could head back to the PrideFest.

They met up with Astrid and George, and later spent more time with Anna and Aster. Like all good things, PrideFest had to come to a close, and with that came the need to pack Anna's stall away into the back of Aster's van.

With the heavy lifting finished, the festival attendees retired to the calm and relaxed (as well as fan-cooled) surroundings of Circe, a Downtown restaurant and bar, for a well-earned meal.

With a selection of the restaurant's New American and Rhode Island-centric menu laid before them, Hamish, Jack, Astrid, George, Anna and Aster had settled into a relaxed atmosphere of friendship.

"Thank you for the help everyone, packing the stall up usually takes twice as long normally."

"It's been taking twice as long ever since the show pony started having a romantic life." Aster quipped. Jack stuck out his tongue in response.

"Children." George interjected. "This is a place of elegance and sophistication." He raised his glass of Glenmorangie. "To another year of being out and proud, and to new friends: may this be the first of many dinners together."

The rest of the group raised their glasses in toast, and took a sip.

"Are you going to go to the parade after we've eaten?" Astrid asked, glancing toward Anna and Aster.

"I'd love to, but I need to get the things from the practice stored away." The multi-colour-haired woman answered. "If I didn't have to worry about that, then I'd be there with Jack."

"I've got to drive Anna and her stuff back, and after that I've got some stuff I need to get sorted." The burly man explained.

Jack was tempted to make a quip about Aster doing stuff with Anna, and it seemed the Australian sensed he was considering this, as the other man shot the younger male a paint-withering look. In the end, and in the spirit of self-preservation, Jack opted for a different response:

"Bunny runs his own garage and fixes up motorcycles. He also he runs this sort of club for bikers on Sundays."

Aster frowned. "It's not a 'club' you bogan, it's a gathering for motorcycle enthusiasts."

Jack held up his hands in placation. "Hey, I'm no expert. But that totally sounds like a social club."

Aster fired a dangerous smirk. "Come along on Sunday and say that to their faces."

Hamish noticed the brief flash of apprehension on Jack's face. "Can't. I'll be sleeping in with my gorgeous boyfriend here." He leant over, and slung an arm over Hamish's shoulder. "And if he's lucky, I might even give him a-"

"That's quite enough of that." George interjected. He wasn't sure if Jack actually was going to say 'blowjob', but he didn't want to risk it.

"-Kiss! I was gonna say 'kiss'."

"Sure you were." Aster crossed his arms, his face a sceptical smirk.

Anna and Astrid shared a slightly exasperated look across the restaurant table. "You've known Jack longer, is he always like this?"

Anna favoured Jack with a contemplative look. "Not always. Sometimes he can be even worse." She laughed.

The darkening of the sky had heralded the departure of Anna and Aster, and the remaining Pride-goers stood gathered as the Australian and Chinese-American prepared to set off to their respective homes.

"It was great getting to meet you Astrid, George. Let me know when you're next planning to visit the city and we'll sort something out."

"Definitely." Astrid agreed.

"Aye, lass." George nodded. "It was a pleasure."

Aster offered a curt, but polite nod to the both of them, and then turned to Jack. "If you get arrested… Don't call me, because I'll be asleep in my bed." He smirked.

"I promise nothing!" Jack retorted.

The Australian smirked. "See you later Q-Tip, Matchstick."

Astrid glanced amusedly towards Hamish.

"Bunny's way of showing he cares." Jack elaborated.

They waved Aster and Anna off as the driver guided the van out of the parking lot, and down the block.

"'Matchstick'?" Astrid queried.

"Because Hamish is thin and dark at the head." Jack explained.

George smirked. "And here I was happy to go with 'toothpick'. I'm disappointed I didn't think of it myself."

Hamish glared between his three companions. "Oh… Oh! Look at my friends; they think they're soooo funny."

"In fairness, you've given us a lot of your snark over the years." Astrid responded affectionately. "You have to take as good as you give."

"That's not your policy when you punch my arm. I don't even hit you."

She shrugged. "Consider it as my brand of physical affection."

"A.K.A: tough love." Jack added.

George chuckled. "As entertaining as this little soiree of ours currently is, I'm sure we'd have a better time at the parade then stood in a parking lot."

Hamish pointed towards his surrogate Uncle. "What the meathead with the attitude said."

As night swept over Providence, their particular brand of banter followed them every step of the way as they journeyed to the illuminated pride parade.