Homecoming

6: Pink?

I realize what I said the moment after I say it. Fuck. I look at Ty and he's a confused, blushing mess. It makes him even more adorable than he usually is. Stop thinking about that, Aaron, and pull yourself together. You're going to lose him if you don't play this off well.

"Haha, yeah. I love you man. Like, as a friend. I'm not gay," I say, trying to laugh it off. I see something flash across his face and remember he's gay. Fuck. I'm so bad at this.

"Well then, I love you too. Not in a gay way but love you, bro."

Well that certainly worked out like it was convenient to the plot.

"Cool," I said, rubbing the back of my neck and looking down. "So how are you going to do this, shortie?" I tease. "Need me to get you a stool?"

"No, you're going to sit down on the edge of the tub again. Just cause I'm short doesn't mean I'm not in charge right now," he says, slightly angrily. I decide to take this a little farther before I stop.

"Make me, Ty. Oh, yeah, you can't. Sorry."

"Shut up, just because not everyone is freakin' six-foot-twelve-and-a-half-inches," he trails off, seeing the joking in my eyes. He smiles, just for a moment, and he is the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I sit down on the edge of the tub like I was instructed, and he pulls out a really loud air dryer.

"Alright, done," he says, turning off the dryer. "Shirt off, I don't want to dye it."

"Dude, are you sure? That's kinda gay, you know," I say with a laugh.

"Bitch, I'm kinda gay. Besides, if you're afraid of a little gay, how are you ever going to have that three-way you want?"

"I told you never to bring that up again," I say with a grin, swiping for him. He just moves out of the way.

"That's revenge for calling me short. Besides, it's not like I told anyone. I'm just messing with you," he says, grinning right back at me.

"Fine, fine," I say, pulling off my shirt, which is actually his shirt, but he'll never get it back, but he doesn't have to know that. "Let's do this."

The dying goes really fast; I expected it to go for a really long time. But in a couple of minutes, Ty says, "Done. Now we just wait for about an hour. What do you want to do?"

"Naptime?" I ask hopefully. He just laughs and shakes his head.

"Sherlock?" he suggests.

"I'm in." He fires up his laptop, and we watch about halfway through an episode.

"Alright, that's time. Now, you have options. You can either shower again, or rinse your hair out in the bathtub," Ty says when the timer he set goes off.

"I'll just rinse it in the bathtub then," I say. He leads me back to the bathroom and tells me to rinse my hair until the water comes out mostly clear. He gives me the wand and leaves.

"Hey, Ty?" I call. "How the hell am I supposed to do this?"
He comes back into the room and laughs. He laughs at me.

"What you're going to want to do is kneel by the tub and lean your head over. Rinse your hair from back to front."

"What? You do it."

"But that would be gay, right?" he says, only mostly joking.

"Well if you're going to do it, I don't mind," I say completely seriously. He looks rather taken aback by the tone change, but I don't care. I figure this is as good a time as any to come out, right?
"Alright, I guess," he says uncertainly. I lean my head over the side of the tub and feel as he stands close to my side, letting the water flow through my hair. Every once in a while, he runs his fingers through gently, to see if the water is clear enough. The gesture is comforting, like a hot meal after a long day.

"Alright, that's good enough, I think," he says after a while. "You might want to actually wash your hair, but then you're good." He steps away, and my shoulder gets cold without him standing near it.

I look up at him, and he's blushing a bit, but he's standing tall. He's looking at me like he's proud. I guess the dye went well, then. He sees me looking at him, and he smiles at me. Please call 911, this boy is so cute it should be illegal.

"If I'm supposed to wash my hair, can I do it in the tub again?" I ask.

"Uh, yeah. If you can, that is," he jokes back.

"Uh, yeah, I think I can," I mock him, just to make him smile.

"Then do it," he throws a towel at me and starts to walk away.

I turn my attention back to my task and wash my hair the same way Ty rinsed it. When I'm done, I stand up and look in the mirror for the first time.

"TY!" I shout, running into the other room. He's just lying on his bed laughing his ass off. Call 911, I'm going to murder this boy.

"What?" he laughs.

"MY HAIR IS PINK, TY," I shout.

"Pff, no it's not," he responds, still dying laughing. Damn it. I swear I hate him sometimes.

And yet, I find myself laughing along with him. He just has the most amazing, infectious laugh, and even though I'm still a little pissed, I can't bring myself to be angry with him.

Besides, I still have the upper hand here.

"Yes it is, you idiot," I say, jumping onto the bed next to him.

"Alright, yeah, it's pink, but it looks good," he murmurs, running his fingers through it. I close my eyes for just a second, and when I open them, I see his beautiful brown eyes looking back at me. And I'm lost. His brown eyes are not just brown, but syrup and honey and whiskey. They're warm and deep, and bear the weight of his soul that my light eyes could never capture.

"Gorgeous," I whisper to myself, utterly transfixed.

"Yeah, you're not too bad yourself," he responds quietly. I give him a small smile. I want to make a joke, but some part of me knows that this isn't the time. Plus, I like this quiet mood. Don't tell anyone, because it would totally fuck up my reputation of never shutting up.

"Thanks," I whisper back to him. I'm afraid talking out loud will ruin this quiet, and I never want it to end. I lie back onto the bed next to him and let us lapse into a comfortable silence, watching the shadows grow longer on the ceiling.

The sun is almost setting before I talk again.

"Hey, Ty?"

"Yeah Aaron?"

"You never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Will you go to Homecoming with me?"

"Aaron," he sighed. "You're joking, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I am," I lie quickly. "Sorry."

"Yeah. It's fine," he said in that particular tone of voice that said quite plainly that it was not fine.

"Hey, Ty."

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"Let me tell you my story of woe, friend."