Boy Problems

(The Illustrious Crackpot)

"Hey, uh…Finn?"

The shy, quiet tone and unexpected nervous tremor made Finn glance at the boy beside him in surprise. To his further shock, Harv was blushing beet red, his blue eyes pointedly directed at the ground.

"What?" Finn snapped, rudeness being the only way he could think to show his concern.

Harv continued to specifically not look at him, instead chewing on his lower lip and fiddling with his gloved hands. "I, uh…" he muttered at a barely audible volume, "if…if I tell you something, y-you have to not tell anyone, all right?"

The blonde boy's ears suddenly seemed to double in size. "Yeah…?"

Harv coughed raspily, continued playing with his hands, and the blush spread from his cheeks down his neck and all the way up to the roots of his dirty, matted hair. As Finn's friendly concern quickly turned to mounting irritation, the other boy first screwed his eyes shut, then snapped them back open and whipped his head around to search for eavesdroppers. The field was flat and empty for miles except for the two boys, some grazing goats and Harv's little house on the distant horizon, but that didn't stop him from making a thorough visual sweep, though even that didn't seem to calm his nerves.

Finn was just about to release an exasperated scream when suddenly Harv's hand was cupped around the boy's ear and he heard the boom of a harsh whisper.

"I think I have a crush on Emet!"

Finn's heart leapt into his throat. "You—you what?!" he spluttered, blood already rushing to his own cheeks.

"Shhhhh!" Harv admonished sharply, glancing worriedly on the sky, though of course He already knew all about this. "Not so loud!"

"I—you—um—" Finn gibbered incomprehensibly, gripped with panic. He and Harv couldn't both—that was, if they both wanted her, they couldn't possibly both—and then he and Harv might not be able to be friends anymore, and then who would protect him—Damn that Emet, causing such strife, just like a woman!

"I keep praying it'll go away," Harv moaned, burying his completely crimson face in his hands, "but it's been weeks, and I just can't…but, but i-it's just so wrong!"

Nothing got Finn's attention better than a potential insult. "What do you mean, WRONG?!" he screeched indignantly.

Harv lowered his hands and fixed Finn with a suspicious, bewildered, embarrassed stare. "Um…because he's a guy?"

"Oh." Finn's brow furrowed for a moment before total comprehension hit. "OHHHHH."

"It's—I mean—I'm not like that," Harv fumbled, too busy being mortified to notice the horrible smile starting to creep across Finn's face. "But, um…I-I guess I always really admired Emet for being so tough and persistent and good with his hands and stuff, a-and with his thick lashes I might've started thinking about him like he was a girl or something, so, y'know, my respect for him might feel like a crush but it's probably not really, but 'cus it does feel like a crush…Finn, what should I do?"

"Wha—? Oh, uh…" Realizing that Harv's eyes were upon him again, Finn quickly replaced his malicious smirk with an expression of stern admonishment. "You should try to forget about it, of course! They're just fake feelings to, uh…trick you into sin, that's right! So you should, uh…stop thinking nice things about Emet, and be really mean to h—him, and only think about his bad points so that you don't like him as much anymore, and so he doesn't, uh, think your friendliness up to now means you've been sending him love-signals or anything so he doesn't try to tempt you into sin himself!" Starting to really get into it, Finn stood up and patted Harv's head condescendingly. "Don't worry, old boy, I won't tell anyone about your little momentary lapse. Any 'feelings' you may or may not have had for a fellow man can be our little secret."

"Gosh, really, Finn?" Harv beamed up at him with a tearful grin of relief. "Thanks so much! I feel a lot better now."

"What are friends for?" Finn returned smugly.

And with an immense sigh, Harv went back to watching over his flock while Finn sat back down and closed his eyes, letting his mind fill with the tantalizing thought of a brown-skinned little seamstress twirling around, her greatest assets gathered and emphasized and made forbidden to Harv by those blessed, blessed pants.