Harry tugged off his scarf and breathed in the scent of Connor's flat. It was a modest adobe and was warmly colored. Anyone who came in would never expect Connor of having such tastes, but he had the walls varying in shades of green and brown with the furniture in oranges and reds. "Connor, I'm home." Harry called, smiling at how 'home' sounded. "Harry, you do know that just because I bottom does not mean that I am a house wife or whatever they call people like us these days, right?" Connor said, walking out of the kitchen with some snacks. He set them down by the T.V. and gave Harry a quick kiss. They both quickly snuggled into each other on the couch, holding hands.
Harry smiled through Connor's hair. He loved these silent moments between the two of them. "So, will you tell me the truth now about Wes and you?" Harry stopped smiling at Connor's question. He knew Connor hadn't believed him the other day and to say otherwise would be an insult to Connor. "You know, Connor, sometimes we are better off not knowing the truth." "Yes, well we would be if it didn't kill me to know that you are hiding something from me." "I'm not hiding anything, but I am protecting you from knowing the truth." "What, are you both in some witness protection program?" Connor scoffed, sitting up away from Harry's hug.
"If only there were any witnesses." Harry said darkly. Connor looked at him, bewildered. "Do you really want to know the truth?" Harry asked, frustrated. Connor nodded. "It all started almost 15 years ago. Wes and I were both eleven. We went to a boarding school in Britain-" "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait, this is the same Wes Gibbons, who is the poorest kid I know, and got into Middleton on a scholarship?" Harry nodded, annoyed at having been interrupted. "Sorry." Connor gestured for Harry to go on.
"We were in Scotland and the school was amazing. Every year, we met new people and teachers. Then, the terrorist attacks started after that mass murderer got out. My parents had been part of the last war with the terrorists, so they wanted me out of the picture pretty fast. Wes and I were part of a group of people that were fighting against the terrorists and we were losing. Eventually, I had to give myself to the other side to save my friends. I barely made it out alive and I looked for my friends ever since. I guess I'm just mad that Wes never tried to contact me after I got out. Then again, it was a pretty rough ride and I'd want to forget too in his place. He probably didn't think I would have lived." Harry said, looking blankly at the wall. Connor felt horrified that he'd even asked such a stupid question and really hoped he hadn't given Harry PTSD or something.
"What happened to the terrorists?" Connor asked, morbidly wondering if the story got any worse. Harry's smile was cold and sharp as a razor. "They died." Connor left it at that because he knew that he definitely did not want any details. Connor smiled warmly at Harry and mentally cheered when Harry's dark persona left him. Giving him a breathless kiss, Connor snuggled back into him and began watching the T.V. again. Wes was never mentioned again that night between the two of them.
Later on that night, Harry lay awake, thinking about the modified version of The War he had told Connor. He knew he had to meet with Wes so that their stories corroborated. Otherwise, he would lose Connor if he knew Harry had lied to him. Connor wouldn't ever want to touch Harry again, not with the blood of thousands on Harry's hands.