Who Names The Colors

Youth

This is a slashy little outtake from before Wntc, it's Hethan. Do with it what you will.

Harry cut his hair, and well, when he came into the kitchen it had stopped Ethan's breath.

Ethan had teased him about the wild fluffy curls, well they all teased Harry about his hair, but Ethan was surprised to find he missed them, though he really liked the less fro-like appearance he was wearing now. The sides were shorter, and the ringlets pulled down longer. It made you look at his face.

Not that Ethan didn't look at his face enough. This summer it had changed so much and he couldn't stop looking. He'd always really liked Harry's face, the sweetness of his features and the way he smiled. His whole body smiled, really, but his face especially. It was probably the reason why Ethan had found the courage to approach him on the footie pitch when they had first moved to their new village. He was barely 11, and shy in this unfamiliar environment, it was easier at his old apartment building, all the kids had played on the outdoor playscape thing. He'd been mopping about the house for days before mum had told him to get out, explore, go find some other kids, and he'd done it. But they'd clearly been tight knit from Ethan's first look, and barely noticed him while they kicked around. They'd been sharing a bottle of something, and laughing, he could imagine teasing each other and he wanted in. How do you get noticed?

The only one who seemed to notice him was the curly haired chubby-cheeked boy.

Ethan was kinda stuck. He needed to get brave, but couldn't seem to grow a pair and go over to them. He glanced around and caught the eye of the curly haired one. He'd smiled at Ethan, so big and bright, he had dribbbled his ball over and said "Hey, I'm Ethan."

"M'Harry. You new?" And Ethan didn't feel like saying yes made him a fresh target the way it would have in his mancunian neighborhood.

"Yeah, moved in on the weekend."

"Welcome. We're done playing, but we were gonna go to the bakery and get the old ladies to give us some sweets, wanna come?" It seemed genuine, and Harry was really good at charming the old ladies.

Harry was really charming in general. And they had similar home lives, just their mum, no dad around, really, but Harry was lucky enough to have a sister. A pretty, older sister. For a couple years or so, Ethan fantasized about the sister. Until a more troubling development happened.

Ethan wasn't sure when he started to wank to Harry instead. Maybe the weekend in the spring when they first went swimming and Harry got pushed off the dock. His shirt went totally see through and Ethan had lost his breath. He spent more time looking at Harry's lower stomach than at the breasts Poppy had just sprouted. He stared more when Harry had given up the shirt and just ran around in his swim trunks hung low on his hips. They'd played ball in the water, and Ethan had taken one to the face because he was so busy watching his friend.

Ethan was pretty sure he started thinking about Harry when he touched himself that night. He wasn't the only guy that had popped into his head before, it was probably an even split between girls and boys if he was honest with himself. He wondered for a long time if that was normal, but who do you ask about that?

He might ask Harry. They were close enough. He thought they were close enough. He really hoped they were. He couldn't imagine Harry calling him a name and taking off, if he told somebody like Martin, that's exactly what would happen. Harry always said he was just pissed about his name, why he was so cranky. Ethan was sure he could tell Harry he might like boys, but he'd leave off the part about Harry being the primary one.

He's gonna ask him today. He decided when he saw the cheekbones and dimples, the curls shorter around his face as Harry spoke to his mum. They were both smiling. His mum liked having somebody to teach to paint.