Chapter 3 Uniquely Uniformed

When Aaron woke up the next morning, he hoped the previous day had been a bad dream. The neat stitches holding the strap of his bag together and the note from the dean proved otherwise. Aaron was torn between anticipation and dread, just as he had been the day before; Kris was clever, and the rest of the boys seemed nice enough, but Kris knew Aaron's secret. Working for the host club would be dangerous and exciting.

Still, Aaron wasn't particularly eager to go to school after the previous day's event with his bag, but anything would be better than staying at home. So he grabbed his breakfast- a single, slightly mushy banana- and hotfooted it out the door. He dug?his banged up MP3 player out of his bag and went to work untangling the headphones that always got knotted no matter how neatly they were wrapped.

The left earbud hadn't worked in months, but Aaron put them both in anyways; it kept the kids walking to the public school from trying to talk to him. The familiar strains of Aaron's favorite Motley Crue song filled his ears, and he hummed along as he started the walk to the bus that would take him across town and drop him in front of the school. It wasn't a scheduled stop, of course, but Aaron used the bus often enough to get to and from work that the driver had snuck in the extra stop.

"Bye Aric!" Aaron was giving the driver a cheerful wave twenty minutes later.

"Try not to get in any more trouble," Aric said back. Naturally Aaron had told him everything that had happened- the man was the grandfather he never had. Aric had laughed so hard when he told the story that the driver almost swerved off the road. Aaron let out an aggravated sigh, which only made Aric laugh more, and hopped down the steps onto the curb. He put his headphones back in when the bus drove away and headed for the school building.

"Aaron, there you are!" There was suddenly a voice in his ear, and somebody grabbed him by the arm to tow him toward the school.

Aaron was ready to rip the perpetrator's hand off, but was able to turn enough to see familiar red-orange hair as he back-pedaled, desperately trying to keep from falling over. "Whichever twin you are, could you please let me go? I'm going to trip and break something else expensive," Aaron grumbled, pulling forward- in the opposite direction of the twin- and almost sending them both sprawling.

"I'm Harry," the twin informed him, but had no intentions of letting him go.

Aaron stumbled along behind the boy, grumbling and complaining, but didn't put up any real resistance since he would have been going to the school building anyways. His face quickly heated when he saw the trail of puzzled people behind them, all wondering why the new messy peasant was being dragged around by one of Sherwood's elite. Even Aaron himself didn't understand; Kris had given him a time when they would need him. Harry was two and a half hours too early.

"Where are we going?" Aaron asked as he tried not to kill himself going up the stairs.

Harry slowed for him, but only a little. "East Lounge."

"Why?"

"Do you always ask this many questions?" Harry retorted as they made their way through the hallways of the second floor.

"Yes," Aaron snarked back.

Harry shook his head with a laugh, finally losing his hold on Aaron's wrist when they stood in front of the door to the East Lounge. Aaron massaged his wrists, frowning at the red fingerprints left on his arm and hoping his sensitive skin wouldn't bruise. The other boy didn't notice, digging in his backpack for the key that would unlock the room.

The knob turned under Harry's hand, and he pushed Aaron ahead of him into the lounge. Aaron's jaw dropped as he looked around, shocked. "Where did the beach go?" he asked, voice shaking ever so slightly.

"Wherever Roman got it from," Harry replied, starting across the tile floor like the impossible change didn't bother him.

Aaron took in the new round tables that were scattered around the room. Each one was set with elegant tableware, and tablecloths that looked to be silk of all different colors. A bouquet of flowers that matched the tablecloths also graced each table. "You're kidding me! How'd he do it?"

"He paid some workers to come in, simple as that."

"How in the world did he pay for it all?" Aaron cried. It must have cost at least a year of the rent he paid on his house, and that was a low estimate.

Harry looked back at Aaron, puzzled. "With his allowance, of course. And maybe a bit of the club's money- some of those flowers look foreign. Now stop dawdling and follow me!"

Aaron meekly followed orders, dazed. Roman's allowance was probably more than he made in months at his job, and Roman used it to make a room look like a beach for a day only to redesign it the next.

"Rich people make no sense," Aaron muttered to himself.

Harry heard it crystal clear, but decided to ignore it; from what he had heard of the incident with Cara, and Aaron's station in life, he figured the boy was within his rights to be disgruntled. Harry probably would be, too, if he had to live like that.

"What are you, a snail? Hurry up!" Harry said, exasperated.

"Sorry," Aaron said, but it was purely automatic; he'd been enthralled with the vibrant blue flower he'd never seen before, and didn't appreciate the interruption. Despite that, he scurried through a door after Harry and found himself in a room he actually recognized. The sofa, the low coffee table, the mirrors and dressing screens were all the same as they had been when Aaron joined the host club. The only thing different was the garment bag Harry held out to Aaron.

"Put this on," he demanded. Aaron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry filled it with the garment bag, "I won't take no for an answer. Get moving, and leave off the jacket."

Aaron muttered things that shouldn't be repeated even in impolite company and slipped behind one of the dressing screens. He unzipped the bag, and silently stared at what was almost Sherwood's uniform. Sighing, he stripped off his only pair of unripped jeans and the Ratt tee he had salvaged from a thrift shop. It took a bit of fumbling to dress in the expensive new clothes, but Aaron managed everything except the tie. It was draped around his neck when he stepped out from behind the screen.

Harry grabbed Aaron's arm again, the other his eyes. "I don't want you peeking," he explained so neither of them would feel terribly awkward about the way they were pressed together.

"What are you doing to me now?" Aaron asked sincerely as Harry pushed him to sit down on the couch.

The sound of a zipper was followed by frantic rustling, and then Aaron could smell the light scent of some kind of cologne as Harry stood behind him. "I'm fixing this mess," Harry said, running his fingers through Aaron's hair.

"What? No!" Aaron batted at Harry's hands, putting his arms protectively over his head.

"How do you expect to work for the host club with a rat's nest on your head?" Harry challenged.

"I don't care. You're not touching my hair."

Harry sighed, sounding defeated. "Fine. I didn't want it to come to this, but you've left me no choice. You'll let me fix your hair, or you'll be breaking your deal with Kris."

"What?" Aaron shouted, immediately trying to jump to his feet; Harry's hands on his shoulders kept him from moving and earned the boy a heated glare.

Harry stayed cool, but a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Kris said you had to do whatever we wanted. We, as in the members of the host club. As one such member, I get whatever I want. This is what I want, so you don't have any choice in the matter."

"Damn," Aaron muttered. He thought back to the day before, wanting to be certain what Harry said was true. Kris's voice rang in his head, and Aaron couldn't put a lie on the twin's claim, "Fine, do whatever you want."

Harry grinned victoriously and squirted gel into his hands. "If it helps any, I would have enjoyed this more if you agreed willingly."

Harry thought, though, that it might have been a bad thing if Aaron hadn't protested. It was bad enough Harry was in love with the feeling of his hands slipping through the fine silk stands of Aaron's hair, and he found himself imagining other impossible situations he never would have dreamed of with any other boy. His fantasies would have been a thousand times worse if he thought Aaron was enjoying it. Harry took minor comfort in the idea that Aaron hated it, until his gaze caught on one of the mirrors to their left. In it he could see Aaron's dreamy expression, eyes half closed with a soft smile, and knew Aaron was enjoying it just as much as he was. Harry swallowed hard, his heart beginning to thrash in his chest, as he imagined all the other reasons his hands would be in Aaron's hair.

This is ridiculous, Harry thought a bit desperately. Harry hadn't felt even a hint of attraction towards other boys until then; there was just something about Aaron that had dreams in his head and more than his heart aching. Harry cleared his throat, a nervous habit, and pulled his hands out of Aaron's hair. "All done!" he announced.

Aaron's half closed eyes opened all the way, and for a second, he was deeply disappointed the moment was over. Then his sense returned, and his words with it. "You didn't dye my hair green, did you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A little trust, please," Harry scoffed, guiding the boy into standing again. They boy watched Harry's hands fly as he brought Aaron's tie into order, the two of them standing close enough that they touched every time they shifted in the slightest. Harry could feel the other boy's breath falter as his knuckles brushed Aaron's chest, and his heart tripped in response. Harry fumbled, and they both laughed when he had to extricate a finger from the knot. Harry shook his head at himself, and smoothed Aaron's tie down. "There. Put the jacket on, and you can look in the mirror."

Aaron did as instructed, firmly keeping the frown from forming- he had been enjoying that process far too much. It was more dangerous than Kris knowing his secret, and Aaron hadn't thought he would ever say that. He slipped his arms into the jacket and wasn't surprised it fit nearly perfectly, just like the rest of the clothes. A quick glance at Harry told Aaron the other boy approved; a soft, slightly awed smile had curved up his lips, and pleased surprise glimmered in his forest green eyes. It was a good sign, but Aaron was still nervous as he stepped in front of the mirror; his nerves vanished and his jaw dropped while he stared at what he saw.

The boy in the mirror was completely unfamiliar to Aaron. Sure, the thick glasses and the warm brown eyes behind them were the same. But there was no way the sexily disordered brown hair that made his feminine features an asset, highlighting his Asian heritage, could possibly be his. Neither could that slim body so artfully accentuated with white dress pants and the white button down shirt. The outfit would have looked too innocent if it weren't for the black tie and jacket that made Aaron's glasses look not quite so terrible. Put together, Aaron's new look made him almost... attractive.

"How did you do that?" Aaron asked, awed. What Harry had done was more amazing than what Roman had done, and that had been awing enough.

Harry chuckled, throwing an arm over the other boy's shoulders. The colors of their uniforms were completely opposite, a yin-yang effect Harry hadn't expected. "I told the dean you shouldn't have a normal uniform since you're not a normal student. It took a bit of convincing, but he gave in."

Aaron looked up at the red-headed boy, then threw his arms around him- partially because he was grateful, but also to hide the goofy grin on his face as his eyes misted. "Thank you," he said into Harry's chest.

It took Harry a long, shocked moment to hesitantly return Aaron's hug. "Don't mention it," he said, clearing his throat once more when his voice came out slightly strained. Aaron pulled away and gave the boy a brilliant smile. Harry knew that if the silence continued for more than a few seconds, Aaron's melted chocolate eyes would convince him to do something idiotic and completely uncharacteristic. So he filled the silence with a joke, "No, really, don't. My reputation could be ruined. What would people think if they heard I bought you?a uniform and didn't lace even the shoes with itching powder?"

"Shoes?" Aaron repeated blankly. Harry nodded toward the box on the coffee table. Aaron bit his lip and opened the box to see a pair of brand new, ebony black dress shoes that probably cost just as much as the uniform itself did. His usual hatred for charity began to rear its head, and Aaron turned back to Harry.

Harry spoke before Aaron could even open his mouth, as if he had read the boy's mind. "Don't you dare say it's too much, or that you'll pay me back for it. I did it to be nice. It's a gift. Just get over it," he said firmly.

Aaron blinked at him, then kicked off his ratty, holey sneakers and sat down to put his new shoes on without another word. Again, they fit shockingly well, only a half size too large. When Aaron stood up again, Harry immediately grabbed him and steered him out into the main room. Aaron tried to dig his heels in as they approached the door to the hall, but the new shoes didn't give him any purchase.

Aaron started to panic a little. What would Cara and the other students say, when they saw the peasant all dressed up? The thought of it terrified him enough that he shouted, "Harry, wait!"

He didn't. "Knock 'em dead," he said, then shoved Aaron out the door and slammed it behind him.