(FNF) Boyfriend x Pico - Friday Night Funkin

Part Thirteen: Hit

I-...
Thank you guys so so so soooo much for 300 reads!! It makes me so happy to know people are actually enjoying my writing!

That's all. Love you lots!
-pipthegoat

TW: Death

~~~~~

   Pico woke up the day after the concert to his phone buzzing loudly next to his ear. It was misty outside, looking like a mixture of the crack of dawn and the brink of dusk through his blinds. He picked his phone up to see a message.

Unknown number
Barkly Theater. 30 minutes. Crowded.

Unknown number
Sent image

Of course. This early in the goddamn morning, he would have to run halfway across town to do a hit.

Pico rolled out of bed, tired and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He checked his clock. 8:34 pm. Guess it wasn't as early as he thought.

Glancing in the mirror, he concluded he looked good enough. His typical green sweater was a little smelly and wrinkly, but he wasn't trying to impress anyone. Knowing there would be a crowd to pick through, Pico picked out his M24. It was too big to hide in public, so the ginger would have to take the long way to the theater. He threw his phone, keys, cigarettes and lighter in his pocket and went on his merry way, climbing out of the window and making his way up to the roof. He lived on the fourth and, thankfully, top floor of the building, so it was just a matter of a well-timed jump and a strong arm.

It was about a 20 minute walk from his apartment to the theater, leaving him with about five minutes to get situated. Although, he was running across rooftops, so he might want to pick up the pace.

Pico started to run, jumping across the gaps between buildings with the large sniper rifle in his hand. The theater was on the opposite side of the road, but that was fine. His gun had more than enough range to compensate for the distance.

   He arrived ahead of schedule, giving him eight minutes to get ready. Pico propped his M24 against the slightly elevated ledge of the rooftop he was standing on, belonging to café and residential building combination. It didn't offer rooftop access as far as he could tell, so he should be safe to do what he had to do. The ginger got down on the floor, lying so his eye lined up with the scope of the firearm and his finger could rest comfortably on the trigger. As a crowd began to form for a show, lining up outside of the entrance, Pico opened his messages to see who today's victim would be.

   He looked a little taller than Pico, with pretty hazel eyes and a slim figure. The ginger had to admit, he was good looking. But what really caught his attention was his hair. Those electric pink locks looked eerily familiar...

   Pico shook the thought out of his head. Familiarity just made pulling the trigger harder. No matter how many hits you do, it never gets easier. That, Pico knew for sure. This was his third year doing it for a living, and fifth total. Every time your finger twitched back and a bullet flew, it was as if the world stood still, just for Pico to watch the life leave the innocent victim's eyes. It was always painful to fire his gun, but he managed it alright. Or, at least, until he crawled into bed and was truly alone with his thoughts, and with the crippling guilt. As the events replayed in his mind, and the voices came back...

   Not now! Pico had a job to do. And damn right he was gonna do it. He brought his eye back to the scope, watching carefully as people passed below. The guys shouldn't be too hard to pick out, as his hair would surly give him away. The ginger reached in his pocket and grabbed a cigarette, lighting it quickly before returning to his scope. He took a nice, long drag as he spotted a tuft of electric pink amongst the crowd. Bingo.

   Carefully aiming the weapon at the young man, Pico's finger twitched just above the trigger. He hesitated.

   'Do it. Finish this, get it over with,' his brain yelled at him, 'finish the job, you little pussy.'

   Pico took a deep breath and slowly pulled the back the trigger...

*—BANG—*

   The crowd watched in horror as the the boy fell dead onto the pavement. This was Pico's cue to get the fuck out, before police could arrive. He grabbed his shit and bolted, leaping across the rooftops and back to his apartment.

~~~~~

Keith woke up to a massive headache. Great way to start the day.

It had been two days since the concert, and two days since he had left his apartment or seen Pico. He had planned to ask his boyfriend to the movies tonight, but those were chucked out the window by the agonizing pain in his pounding in his head.

Keith would occasionally get migraines, but it had been a while. The pain and swimming vision felt unfamiliar as he dove his face into his pillow.

Eventually, the world stopped spinning and the little guy could slowly climb out of bed and to the bathroom to take something to help. He reached into the medicine cabinet to see his Advil had expired. Great.

   Keith sat on the toilet, holding his head in his hands as he whimpered from the pain. He suddenly felt a familiar buzz in his pocket, and answered the phone. He didn't bother to read the name, it wasn't like he could, even if he tried. His vision was fluid and his eyes were dotted with tears.

   "Boyfriend?" A soothing female voice filled the line. That's right; the day before yesterday at the concert he promised to see her.

   "Hey, Girlfriend. Sorry, I can't hang out today..." he paused to let the throbbing in his head subside. "Another migraine."

   "Oh, you poor thing! Want be to pick you up something to help?"

   Keith winced at the pain. He didn't want to see anyone today, but it wasn't like he had any better options. "Yeah, that would be great..."

After what felt like an eternity of him sitting in the bathroom, he heard a gentle knock on the door before hearing it squeak open.

"Boyfriend? Hello?"

"I'm in the bathroom." He spoke just loud enough for her to hear. She always had good ears.

Girlfriend rushed into the bathroom, holding a small bottle of pills. "I got some medicine for you. Are you alright? Come on, let me help you to bed..."

She helped Keith off of the toilet, walking him to his bed and lying him down.

"Thank you, Girlfriend. God, what would I do without you..." he placed his hand on his forehead as she smiled.

"Let me go get you some water so you can take these." She gave him the bottle and walked over to the kitchen to grab him a glass.

Keith was left to his own thoughts for a moment. Or, whatever he could manage to think while crying in pain from his throbbing skull. He was so lucky to have Girlfriend in his life. She was always so kind.

"Got it. Let me help you..." He watched a sea of thick auburn hair glide into the room, opening the pill bottle and shaking one out. The noise made Keith flinch, but Girlfriend did it quickly. She handed him the medicine and the water, which he happily accepted. Swallowing the pill, he smiled.

"Thanks again. You're the best, Girlfriend..."

"Hey, it's nothing." She gave him a warm smile. "Once you're feeling up to it, I'd actually love to talk."

Keith sat up, the medicine already working it's magic. Odd.

"What about?"

Girlfriend gently grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it. "I think you know, Keith."