It was brilliant, Ellis thought, like all of Keith’s ideas always proved out to be. An afternoon at Whispering Oaks, fingers sticky from cotton candy, consecutive rides in the merry-go-round in Kiddieland, Keith nailing all those targets at the Lil’ Peanut shooting range, oh man, and then a “Staff only” door left carelessly open on the side of the Tunnel of Love. It was certainly turning out to be one of the finest days of Ellis’ life.

They had to escape from their initial spot near the end of the ride in fear of the staff and subsequently the guards surely being alerted to their loogie-hanging presence, and after stealthily navigating the maintenance rooms and machinery, they ended up behind a heart-shaped plywood stand in one of the shadowy recesses in the tunnel wall, all giggly and excited and ready to rise hell.

“The best time I ever had in a Tunnel of Love,” Keith admitted, sitting down his back to the plywood and trying to catch his breath from the subdued laughter.

Ellis followed. “Can’t imagine any better.”

Keith peered at his friend in the darkness, only the outline of his face illuminated to Ellis by the dim red light pouring in past the edges of the plywood heart. The laughter was now completely forgotten and the only sound was the low-volume cheesy ballad from the speakers and soft splashing of water from the tunnel as swans slowly floated by.

Ellis shifted. His shoulder brushed briefly against Keith’s.

A girl giggled in the tunnel.

“Don’t tell me you’ve actually never been in a Tunnel of Love before,” Keith whispered then, grin in his voice.

“Of course I have,” Ellis rebutted hastily, glad that the darkness hid the evident lie on his face.

“Yeah, with your mom.”

Ellis replied by elbowing Keith in the ribs. “No, with yours.”

Keith guffawed more loudly than he had probably meant to, and there was a hushed “Did you hear that?!” from the tunnel.

“Maybe we took the wrong ride and this is the haunted house,” said a man’s voice, clearly amused.

“Cut it out!” the girl hissed and the rest of the conversation faded away as the swan continued down the tunnel.

“I was in here once with my girlfriend,” Keith said then, whispering under his breath. “We was, well, y’know, and I don’t know what happened, but the swan tipped and I fell into the water. I was drowning, man, and so I yelled at her to help me, y’know, but she got a new shirt on. Just got it the day before. Some frilly thing, made her tits look nice. Ain’t right to jump into the water wearing it, she said.”

“You can’t drown there, it’s only like knee-deep,” Ellis protested.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Keith said with a self-assured grin. “You think it ain’t deep only because you don’t know. You ever drowned in a Tunnel of Love?”

Ellis shook his head.

“It’s almost like you need scuba diving shit and all to get to the bottom, y’know. That’s what gets you drowned in a Tunnel of Love: overconfidence, man.”

“Wow,” Ellis said, impressed.

Keith scratched his chin. His shoulder brushed briefly against Ellis’.

Another noisily face-sucking couple floated by on the other side of the plywood heart.

“Why you never been here?”

Ellis shrugged. “I only ever come to Whispering Oaks with you.”

“Ain’t no reason.”

“Gee, Keith, I’m real honored and all that you’d go on a Tunnel of Love ride with me, but I ain’t –“

“You are in the Tunnel of Love with me.”

Ellis rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean, dude. I don’t got a chick I could ask.”

Silence.

“It ain’t like it’s real worth it, y’know,” Keith said then. “The music’s shit, the swans uncomfortable to sit in, and there’s always some dudes hanging loogies at the end.”

“Plus you could drown,” Ellis added.

Keith nodded. “You’re best off being the one hanging them loogies at the end. It’s a win-win situation.”

They fell silent for a moment. Track changed to another ballad, not even a tad less cheesy than the previous one.

Their shoulders had been touching constantly ever since Ellis had shrugged.

“Y’know,” Keith broke the silence.

For some reason Ellis found himself holding his breath.

“It ain’t right.”

“What?”

Keith didn’t respond right away. There was a pause; might have been a minute or two, maybe just a second, but to Ellis it felt like forever anyway until Keith took a firm hold of his chin, turned his head and kissed him on the lips.

Keith’s mouth tasted like strawberry cotton candy mixed with cigarettes – absurd, really, even more so in full context – and the side of his middle finger traced a bit along Ellis’ jawline and the whole thing felt… Ellis wasn’t quite sure. He was getting light-headed from holding his breath so much, finally letting air out through his nose in a huge sigh that made Keith’s mouth curl into a smile against his.

Then it was over as unexpectedly as it had started and Keith let go of his chin, drawing away, shoulder still against shoulder but shy of all other contact.

Ellis sucked on his lower lip in the darkness. He still felt the pressure of the kiss on his lips and was not entirely sure if he sucked on his lip to get rid of the feeling or just to remember it better.

“It ain’t right,” Keith repeated and started digging a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket’s breast pocket, “that a man has never made out in a Tunnel of Love.”

“We’re not sitting in a swan, Keith,” said Ellis.

Keith turned to look at him, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. “If you wanna I can take you on the ride all proper and shit.” Ellis saw the wide grin on his face in the brief flash of light from Keith’s chrome-coated lighter.

Ellis actually thought about it for a second, before that train of thought was forcefully derailed as he felt Keith snake an arm around his waist, his hand coming to a very comfortable rest on his hip. Ellis found out that sitting shoulder-to-shoulder was much more convenient that way, actually.

He was about ready to ask Keith to take him on the ride all proper and shit when there was an indecipherable loud screeching noise, all the lights suddenly came on blinding them and the fire alarm blared deafeningly loud. There were screams, splashing noises and footsteps from the tunnel and someone yelled “Fire! Fire! Everyone out!” in the distance.

And in the middle of it all were Keith and Ellis, cuddling half-way like any common couple in the ugly plastic swans and so confused by the sudden commotion that it took them ages to scamper to their feet and around the plywood heart from the recess into the tunnel and out, following the green exit signs on the walls. Ellis stayed on the ledges and away from the water: he didn’t want to drown in the treacherous waters of a burning Tunnel of Love, after all.

They stood fifteen minutes outside with a curious crowd, waiting for the Tunnel of Love to light up like a great big bonfire of love until fire department showed up in full smoke diving gear only to find out that there was no fire and the alarm had been false, that some kid had probably ignored the No Smoking signs and lit one up anyway. It happened all the time, they said.

Keith fished his crunched pack of Marlboro red from his breast pocket. “Can’t blame ‘em, those signs clearly ain’t big enough.”

The Tunnel of Love was closed down for the rest of the day and so Ellis’ plans of actually asking Keith to take him there all proper and shit were inevitably foiled. Not that he had been so sure about asking him anyhow: it had felt like a good idea back in the protective, empowering shadow of the plywood heart but back in daylight Ellis hesitated and it almost seemed like Keith had already forgotten all about it, suddenly enthralled by an idea of combining a roller coaster and paintball, wondering why no one had thought about it before.

Later on Keith went to take a leak and buy more smokes, leaving Ellis to play a game of ‘Stache Whacker with his last quarter and sit on a sticky-feeling bench nearby, waiting, peeling the old paint off the weathered bench and gnawing at his nails. Some sugar from the cotton candy along with some other dirt from scampering around the Tunnel of Love was stuck under his fingernails.

Ellis didn’t particularly enjoy just sitting and waiting, it made him think too much and he still didn’t know what the proper code of conduct was when you unexpectedly made out with your best friend in the Tunnel of Love. Did that happen a lot? Ellis didn’t know. And he wasn't gay or anything like that, he digged chicks a lot, but the thought - and memory - of Keith kissing him felt just so... normal. Maybe it was a friend thing. Not a boyfriend thing, but just a regular good friend thing. He thought that this far they were both doing admirable job acting normally and like nothing had even happened and Ellis was contemplating whether that was a good thing or should he pay any attention to the nagging little feeling that was exactly like the time when Jimmy Gibbs Jr. had cancelled an appearance at a local racing event.

He was shaken out of his thoughts of Mr. Gibbs’ betrayal when something soft hit him, and he awoke to the five kinds of overlapping cheerful carnival music, constant chatter and laughter and the distant exhilarated screams from the Screaming Oak; everything that had somehow filtered and muted into the background while he had been thinking. He turned to see Keith with a cigarette in mouth and holding a fair-sized alligator plush toy in his hand. Ellis remembered seeing them as prices in one of the shooting games earlier, a bunch of super cute fluffy gators staring at him compulsively from the stands with their shiny black button eyes.

“For you,” Keith said, holding out the alligator and nodding once towards it.

Ellis took the toy.

Keith sat next to him on the sticky old bench, shoulders touching again.

“You know I’d take you to the Tunnel of Love all proper and shit, right?” Keith asked right off the bat.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t really have to, do I?”

“Not really, no.”

“Good,” Keith said to that, stretching back and completely, almost frighteningly casually draping his arm over Ellis’ shoulder. “That shit is so gay.”